


Trials Together (Book One): The Maze Runner

by msnoname24



Series: Trials Together [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: And I did not make up a single name in the tags, I think I got all the characters this time, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 33,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msnoname24/pseuds/msnoname24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no Group A or Group B, every month another boy and girl appear in the Glade, unable to remember anything. AU if both groups went through the trials together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He woke up in a metal lift in almost complete darkness, he could make out the faint outlines of boxes and another figure lying sprawled on the floor like he had been moments ago. The figure suddenly sat up straight and he saw it was a girl, about sixteen. How old was he? He didn't know, all he knew was his name: Thomas. Nothing else.

The girl looked as disoriented as he felt, eyes darting around in confusion until they met his. Thomas couldn't see what she looked like in the pitch black, her eyes showed nothing but confusion and disbelief. He didn't know her, had no idea who she was or how the two of them had got into this lift thing.

Whatever it was they were in was suddenly filled with a blinding white light, when it faded he could see teenage boys and girls looking down at them. Just kids, no older than the girl in the lift with him.

In the light he could see her better, she was pretty, tall and thin but not too much of either. Her skin was brown, she had very short, very dark hair and stared around with almost black eyes. He still didn't recognise her, who was she? Who was he?

The boys and girls above started talking, apparently about them.  
"Two more greenies, as usual."  
"Good thing they're older than the last ones, this place isn't a nursery."  
"Well finally. Wonder why they came up late."  
"I thought the ones who came up in the Box together looked similar?"  
A thick rope was lowered down, first to the girl, pulling her up then to Thomas. Hands pulled him out and onto the grass. The girl was stood a few feet away looking around.

"Welcome to the Glade greenies." A boy's voice announced and a cheer went up around them.  
The boys and girls all wore normal clothes, t-shirts, shorts and trainers. It all seemed so normal for such a strange place.

A black haired boy looked at Thomas and the girl with absolute loathing, he tapped the mean looking girl next to him on the shoulder and she looked at them the same way. What was their problem? He couldn't remember having done anything.

Thomas looked around at the surroundings, a field surrounded by gigantic stone walls with four gaps along them, dotted with trees and buildings. What had the boy called this place? The Glade or something?

"Where am I." Thomas asked, his voice sounded perfectly normal, at least he thought so, he couldn't even remember what normal was.

A boy about seventeen with dark skin and close cropped hair answered him. "It's a long story, shank," he said. "Piece by piece, you'll learn—I'll be takin' you on the Tour tomorrow. Till then … just don't break anything." He held a hand out. "Name's Alby." He waited, clearly wanting to shake hands, but Thomas refused.

"Alby," a girl walked over shaking her head, she also had dark skin and close cropped hair but looked significantly younger, only about fifteen. She was almost a slightly darker version of the girl in the lift with him.

"Stop scaring the klunk outta the greenies, save it for the Tour." She turned to Thomas and the girl. "I'm Harriet." She held her hand out to the girl and she shook it gingerly. "So what're your names? Doesn't matter if they're bad someone here will have got worse."

"Rachel." The girl said and they all turned to Thomas.  
"Thomas." He said quickly desperate to avert the attention from himself.

A/N: This story isn't a new one but I haven't updated the old one in two years and it needed editing, I am planning to write more. I am also wondering if I should write some sections from the point of view of characters other than Thomas. Please review so I know if anyone thinks I should continue rewriting.


	2. Chapter 2

Cheers went up around them, Thomas still didn't quite understand what was going on but the people seemed nice.  
Everyone started to disperse, some shaking his or Rachel's hands. Eventually leaving Thomas and Rachel with Alby, Harriet and another boy and girl.

"Shall we get Chuck and Flo to show 'em the ropes?" The new girl asked, she was very pale with long reddish blond hair, "medis are having a bit of trouble with Ben and Rosa so we can't stay long."  
As if on cue there was an incoherent scream from the ramshackle building in one corner of the Glade, he thought he had heard someone call it the Homestead.

"Can't they look after them for five minutes?" The boy wondered aloud, he was taller than everyone else despite limping and had blonde hair brushing his shoulders, he spoke with a strange accent Thomas didn't recognise. The two of them definitely resembled each other, siblings perhaps?  
"Apparently not." Harriet sighed, turning to Thomas and Rachel, "you two go find Chuck and Flo and say we said they are going to find you a place to sleep. They're the two twelve year olds."  
She waved them off and they hurried away, this place was weird.

After a few minutes of walking there was another scream, even worse than the last, again coming from the same building.

"Should we go check that out?" Thomas asked Rachel, she was staring around their surroundings with intense concentration, as if attempting to commit it all to memory.

"I'm not sure…" She trailed off, Thomas wasn't sure if she was entirely listening to him. He set off in the direction of the Homestead, filled with a morbid curiosity to learn who was screaming and why.

Walking inside the place was decrepit, Thomas could hear Rachel following him and wondered why she had bothered, maybe she needed to know too. Halfway to the stairs the black-haired boy from earlier jumped in front of him, the same look of hatred on his face.

"You ain't allowed up there Greenie, newbies aren't allowed to see someone who's been taken."

"Oh, let 'em up Gally," it was the same girl who had been with the boy - Gally earlier, "they'll only do it once and it's their own fault if Alby gets mad at 'em."

Gally gave a smile that for some reason made Thomas think of a crocodile but stepped aside, he started up the stairs, conscious of dozens of eyes on him.

"Thomas maybe we shouldn't go up there." Rachel warned as Thomas approached the only door with light coming from underneath, he held a finger to his lips and pushed it open.

Newt and Alby were leaning over one of two beds, the girl on the other was still, blankets pulled up to her chin, asleep or dead, Thomas couldn't tell.

He leaned closer to the other bed caught sight of a sickly pale boy writhing in agony, his veins green and skin bruised.

Alby jumped up, blocking Thomas's view and shoving him out of the room, Rachel had already gone back down.

"What're you doing here Greenie?" Alby demanded, looking livid, "I wanted to see what's going on." It was a feeble excuse and Thomas knew it but couldn't come up with better.

"Get back downstairs, if I see you before tomorrow I'll throw you off the Cliff. D'you hear me?" Thomas retreated to the end of the hallway.

"Yes." He conceded.

"Good, and go find that girl you came up with, she seems to have the common sense outta the pair of you." Alby slammed back into the room and Thomas took a deep breath. He went down the stairs and out the door, ignoring all the stares and a chuckle that probably came from Gally. Rachel was waiting outside.

He hated all these people, Thomas decided, except for Rachel.

"Come on," she held out a hand that he didn't take, "let's go find those kids like they told us."

Thomas followed Rachel across the field, not talking, he wanted desperately to wake up from this terrible dream.  
"What do you think that is?" Rachel asked Thomas, pointing to the gigantic walls, as they got closer to one of the openings there were poles sticking out of one side and round holes on the other, probably used to close them but what could move something so big?  
"No idea, looks like a very big door through to a very big corridor."  
"Funny Thomas," Rachel smiled. Yes, she was the only one he didn't hate.

Thomas studied her profile in the sunlight, she wasn't familiar to him but something told him she should be, like a tune that you could not match with a song. It was frustrating.

She seemed kind and he already liked her, felt that he could trust her with anything, despite having only just met her.

Two kids came over to them, a boy and a girl who both looked about twelve, probably the same ones Harriet had told them to look for.  
"You can't go through there," The girl said, "only runners are allowed in the maze."  
"Maze?" Rachel asked, how could the gigantic walls be a maze?  
"Yeah a maze," the boy said, "come on you two, you go through there and Newt and Sonya will have us in the Slammer for not working properly."

"Who are Newt and Sonya?" Thomas asked, Harriet had said some of them had weird names but he was pretty sure a newt was a type of lizard. Sonya was a normal name at least.  
"The boy and girl talking to you with Harriet and Alby." The boy explained, holding out his hand. "I'm Chuck, this is Flo." He pointed to the girl. "We were new last month, it gets easier, though you two are doing way better than most." Thomas shook the boy's hand.

"I'm Thomas, that's Rachel, Harriet said you two needed to find us somewhere to sleep." Thomas introduced himself, he had a lot of questions but didn't ask them quite yet, curiosity didn't seem to end well.  
"Okay then." Flo said, "beds first or food first? Your choice."  
"I pick food," Rachel said then turned to Thomas, "what about you?"  
"Food is fine," Thomas answered. It seemed waking up in a lift with no memories gave you an appetite.  
"Come on then, kitchen is that way." Chuck said, pointing to another smaller wooden building and walking in its direction with the other three following.

A/N: Opinion poll for if anyone is actually reading this: Should I kill Rachel or not, I can write both endings, and if you could vote on non-slash pairings you would like to see it would be much appreciated.

I also remembered to write the changing scene this time around, success!


	3. Chapter 3

They got some sandwiches from the kitchen and Chuck and Flo explained how things worked to them. New greenies came up every month, always a boy and a girl, they were always similar in personality and skills and often got the same jobs. They were usually the same age but not always and often looked similar. Apparently he and Rachel looked about sixteen and quite tall but otherwise different, no similarities in hair, eye or skin colour.

Harriet and Alby were the leaders, making the rules and keeping order. Having stepped up when Nick and Ximena, the previous pair of leaders, had died. The core rules were simple:

Do your part.  
Never harm another Glader.  
Never go beyond the walls unless you are a runner.  
Everyone is equal.

Each job had two 'keepers', a boy and a girl who supervised the teams who did the job. They would start trying out for all the jobs tomorrow after getting the Tour, one per day until it was decided what they were best at. Chances were they would get jobs together, because that almost always happened.

Outside the walls was the Maze, a dangerous place only Runners were allowed to enter, and they had to be back before the doors closed or they would be shut in for the night with the grievers. Horrible things, they said, if you were stung the medis had to inject you with something called Grief Serum and you would go through the Changing. Called that because no one was ever the same afterwards.

The punishment for breaking the rules was a night in the Slammer the first time for a minor offence, for a major offence or third minor offence you would be Banished. Pushed into the Maze as the doors closed.

No one ever survived a night in the maze.

Runners went out into the maze during the day in attempts to map it to find a way out, almost impossible because the walls changed every night but they still tried, if they gave up everything would fall apart.

"Is there anything else?" Rachel asked once the explanations were finished. It was a lot to take in.

"That's the basics, you'll learn everything else fast enough." Chuck explained. "You get the Tour tomorrow to show you where everything is."

A/N: Basically this chapter is an explanation on how a mixed gender Glade would work, and to clarify in this story Shank means boy and Stick means girl.


	4. Chapter 4

Once they had eaten they went back outside, it was getting dark. Suddenly an incredibly loud noise split the air and the ground shook. The walls, on all four sides of the Glade were closing, sliding shut louder than anything Thomas had ever heard. It filled him with a sense of claustrophobia, trapped in a small area with no exit filled with people he hardly knew. Not an idea he liked all that much.

No one else seemed that bothered, Chuck had said this happened every night, after the runners got back. Hopefully it was possible to get used to it.

Thomas ended up sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag near one of the walls. There seemed to be a lot of people who slept outside. Chuck and Flo fell asleep quite quickly and Thomas assumed Rachel had too when he heard her voice.

"Psst, Thomas, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah why aren't you asleep?"

"Too many thoughts." That made Thomas laugh. It was exactly the reason he couldn't sleep either. The place seemed familiar to him now, although he somehow knew he had never been here before in his life. He knew somehow that things would be okay and he knew what he had to do here, but before he could say it Rachel spoke up again.

"I knew you before didn't I?" She said and Thomas realised somehow that the same things must be going on in her mind.  
"We've been here before. I know we have, and I think I know what we need to do here."

"What?" Thomas asked then she said exactly what had been on his mind.  
"We have to run the maze."  
"We'll have to ask about that tomorrow, when they give us the Tour thing."  
"Anything else?"

"No, we should go to sleep."

"Okay, goodnight." Rachel yawned, he heard her roll over nearby.  
"Goodnight." Thomas replied. He was left to his thoughts. Pretty soon after that he fell asleep and didn't dream.


	5. Chapter 5

Someone shook Thomas awake, it was still dark, early morning. He heard Rachel groan nearby.

"You two up. Gotta show you something before the wake up." The voice belonged to Sonya, and as his eyes adjusted Thomas saw that Newt was with her as well.

"What?" Rachel asked, pulling herself out of her sleeping bag and getting up.

"Just come on." Newt told her before turning to Thomas, "you too greenie, and both of you stay close." Thomas extracted himself from the bag and had to jog to catch up with the three of them who had already set off.

They led him and Rachel up to a section of the wall and pulled some ivy away to reveal a window. Then they stood, as if waiting for something.

"What," Rachel began but Sonya shushed her, putting a finger to her lips and motioning for them to watch the glass. They stood for a few minutes then the window changed.

Glimmers of an eerie light shone through the window; it cast a wavering spectrum of colors on Newt and Sonya's bodies and faces if they stood next to a lighted swimming pool. Thomas grew perfectly still, squinting, trying to make out what was on the other side. A thick lump grew in his throat.  _What is that?_  he thought.

"Out there's the Maze," Newt whispered, eyes wide as if in a trance. "Everything we do—our whole life, Greenies—revolves around the Maze. Every lovin' second of every lovin' day we spend in honor of the Maze, tryin' to solve somethin' that's not shown us it has a bloody solution, ya know? And we want to show ya why it's not to be messed with. Show ya why them buggin' walls close shut every night. Show ya why you should never, never find your butt out there."

Newt stepped back, still holding on to the ivy vines. He gestured for Thomas and Rachel to take his place and look through the window.

Thomas did, Rachel a foot away, leaning forward until his nose touched the cool surface of the glass. It took a second for his eyes to focus on the moving object on the other side, to look past the grime and dust and see what Newt wanted him to see. And when he did, he felt his breath catch in his throat, like an icy wind had blown down there and frozen the air solid.

A large, bulbous creature the size of a cow but with no distinct shape twisted and seethed along the ground in the corridor outside. It climbed the opposite wall, then leaped at the thick-glassed window with a loud thump. Thomas shrieked before he could stop himself, jerked away from the window—but the thing bounced backward, leaving the glass undamaged.

It was too dark to make out clearly, but odd lights flashed from an unknown source, revealing blurs of silver spikes and glistening flesh. Wicked instrument-tipped appendages protruded from its body like arms: a saw blade, a set of shears, long rods whose purpose could only be guessed.

The creature was a horrific mix of animal and machine, and seemed to realize it was being observed, seemed to know what lay inside the walls of the Glade, seemed to want to get inside and feast on human flesh. Thomas felt an icy terror blossom in his chest, expand like a tumor, making it hard to breathe. Even with the memory wipe, he felt sure he'd never seen something so truly awful.

"Grievers." Sonya said. "Get stung by one and you'll end up like them." She pointed to the homestead where Thomas had heard screaming yesterday. It was easy to tell what she was referring to.

A few hours later Thomas and Rachel were being given the Tour by a very bad tempered Alby, despite Harriet warning him not to scare them and act nice. Thomas wasn't sure if the other boy possessed the ability.

Thomas would have preferred Harriet do it but it seemed to be Alby's job. When it seemed finished a loud alarm sounded from the Box, grabbing the attention of everyone Thomas could see.

"What's that?" Thomas asked Alby, the boy looked confused.

"Greenies alarm." Alby said before running off towards the Homestead. Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the Box.

The alarm finally stopped after blaring for a full two minutes. A crowd was gathered in the middle of the courtyard around the steel doors through which Thomas was startled to realize he and Rachel had arrived just yesterday. Yesterday? Thomas thought. Was that really just yesterday?

The Box was pulled open and he saw two bodies lying perfectly still, a boy and a girl. They both looked about sixteen.  
Thomas heard people muttering about the creators sending up dead kids.

He examined the girl first, she was very pale, but not quite as pale as Sonya was. She was really pretty. More than pretty. Beautiful. Silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs. She didn't look dead at all.

The boy was nowhere near as pale, instead his skin had an olive tone and his hair was cut surprisingly short, they were both muttering indecipherable things that seemed to be the same word over and other. But the boy seemed to be saying something different to the girl. Which meant they weren't dead. Dead people didn't talk.

There was thick, black writing spray-painted on the wall of the Box above their heads:  
 _ **They're the last ones. Ever.**_  
The four medis - Clint, Jeff, Emme and Helen checked both of them and pronounced them alive but comatose, for reasons they did not know. Thomas felt a connection with both of them somehow. With the boy it was identical to with Rachel. That he should be familiar but just wasn't. The girl though, he knew her, most definitely, he just couldn't remember how or where from.

Suddenly the two of them jerked upright in almost perfect unison, gasping for breath.

"Everything is going to change." They said together in a monotone then they fell back to the ground, seeming unaware of the ominous message they had brought. Rachel looked straight at him, her facial expression a picture of shock. A thought formed in Thomas's mind: She knew them too.

The medis took both the comatose kids to the Homestead and everyone went back to their work, eventually leaving Thomas alone with Rachel.

"You know them don't you." Thomas asked her and she nodded.

"I knew her the same way I know you Thomas," Rachel said, running a hand through her hair. "Like you should be familiar but you're not. I knew him though, I just don't know how."

"It's exactly the same for me." Thomas told her truthfully. "But I knew the girl not the boy."

"Why are we different?" She asked him.

"I don't know Rachel." Thomas replied. "But until they wake up we don't tell anyone."


	6. Chapter 6

They stood by the Box for a few minutes, it was hard to comprehend, what was going to change? Was it their fault, why had the creators sent up two comatose kids? Why did they know them? And why were they the last ones ever? Had they run out of kids to throw into this place? That brought the question of why they were here in the first place, something no one knew the answer to. They were yet to start their trials with the different keepers so they wandered around the Glade, everyone was looking at them strangely, some with accusatory glances. Like they thought the whole thing was their fault.

"Isn't that one of those beetle blade things?" Rachel asked, pointing at a robotic, lizard type creature, a gleam of red light came from it and Thomas noticed the word WICKED was scrawled across its back. Without thinking Thomas ran after it and could hear Rachel following as he disappeared into a copse of trees whose branches blocked out most of the light.

When Thomas's eyes adjusted he realised there were graves in the trees, marked with crosses carved with names. One was in front of a window and when he looked into it he saw the top half of a boy's rotting body and felt sick.

"Looks like this is the Deadheads." Rachel said behind him, looking around, there were about two dozen of the graves. A lot seemed to have died. Abruptly there was a noise behind them, turning around Thomas saw two figures coming towards them in the darkness, limping strangely, a boy and a girl it seemed but he couldn't be sure.

"Er..hello." Rachel said hesitantly, "we were just following one of those beetle blade things." The figures began to run towards them, Thomas couldn't understand this, what were they supposed to do? Was this normal here?

The figures entered the clearing and before Thomas could say anything one of them jumped him. Trying to bite him and clawing at his skin, he heard a cry of alarm from Rachel and realised something similar must be happening to her. He couldn't exactly consider helping her right now, he needed to get this crazed boy off of him. Thomas summoned all of his strength and pushed at the boy on top of him, pushing him into a sliver of light, in that second he saw it was Ben. One of the kids who had been going through the changing yesterday. He looked completely unhinged, ready to leap at Thomas again. At that moment there was a yell from nearby, Thomas recognised the voice as Alby's. So apparently this wasn't normal and someone had come to do something about it.

"Ben, Rosa, stop this now and go back to the Homestead or I will personally throw your butts into the maze tonight and let the grievers have you!" He shouted at them, Alby was holding a bow and arrow pointed straight at Ben. Thomas noticed Rosa had gotten off Rachel and helped her up. She didn't seem any worse off than he was. A few cuts and bruises, a bit shaken. They'd probably be okay in an hour.

"They're bad." Rosa said vaguely, "them and the two who came up today, they sent us here. They're going to try get us out but everyone'll die. They're bad, they're bad, bad, bad, bad." She kept chanting in a very unsettling way, Ben joining in. The two of them repeating the same word incessantly ignoring Alby's threats.

"One." Alby said, "the two of you shut up and go back to bed and we'll all pretend this never happened, you have until I get to three." He shot Thomas and Rachel a look to shut-up-now-or-I-will-get-you-later. There was no response.

"Two, if you don't stop I'll shoot you both in the head and leave you here to rot." Still no response, the unnerving chant continued.

"Three, last chance." Still no response, an arrow flew from the bow and buried itself in Ben's cheek, the boy fell to the ground unmoving. Rosa started to scream but had barely opened her mouth before a second arrow hit her in the chest. Alby stared at them both, Thomas couldn't tell whether the look was malevolent of not. He did not look happy.

"I'm keeping an eye on you greenies, and I'll make sure all the other keepers do too." He said harshly before walking off into the Glade, leaving them both stood there in shock.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the day was a blur to Thomas, Rachel wandered off somewhere and he found himself in the spot where they had slept the night before, he wasn't sure how long he stayed there.

Eventually Chuck found him and dragged him to get some dinner whilst giving him all the latest Glade gossip:

"It's not the first time someone who went through the changing went crazy and attacked someone, but two at once hasn't happened before. The arrow didn't kill Ben and he's going to get banished tonight, girl was dead though, baggers probably threw her in a hole some place. Minho and Miyoko, those are the Keepers of the runners by the way, well apparently, they found a dead Griever and they're going to check it out with Alby and Sonya first thing tomorrow. The boy and girl haven't woken up, they keep muttering random klunk. Medis can't figure out what half of it means."

They sat at a table with Rachel and Flo, Chuck still talking a mile a minute, but Thomas zoned out, a minute later he heard Rachel's voice:

_You okay, with what happened earlier?_

"Yeah sure." Thomas replied, her words had seemed perfectly normal, so he was surprised to see Chuck and Flo looking at him strangely.

"Er Thomas, no one said anything to you." Flo told him looking confused.

"Okay," Thomas said, "I must be hearing things, me and Rachel are going to talk outside." He grabbed Rachel by the arm and pulled her after him. This day had been weird enough and he needed answers.

"What the shuck happened in there? Did you like, talk in my head or something?" Thomas demanded, surely he couldn't be going crazy after just one day, but it had been a really weird day.

"I don't know how I did it, I just wanted to try, see if it worked. Don't ask how I knew it was possible but I think you can do it too." Rachel didn't sound annoyed with him at all.

"Do what?" Thomas asked, he was calmer now, but he still felt freaked out.

"Try say something," she lightly punched his arm when he opened his mouth. "Not like that, like this." She pointed to her head. Thomas tried to send her a message, he pictured reaching out with his mind to send his thoughts to her, it felt easy, like something he had known how to do before. it was probably related to their strange selective amnesia.

 _Can you hear me? Please say yes or I'll seem like a complete idiot_. There was a momentary pause before she replied, but it wasn't out loud.

Thomas heard her voice in his mind, like he had inside:

_Yes, I can. Are we going to keep this a secret too?_

_Yeah, these shanks already seem to think we're messed up, let's not give them more evidence._

_Good that._  Thomas sensed a laugh from her but couldn't possibly explain how.

Later that evening Ben was to be Banished, all the Gladers gathered by one set of doors to the Maze. Ben was dragged out of the Slammer, a huge bandage covering his face, begging for his life.

Newt retrieved a huge pole and a collar, the collar was placed around Ben's neck as Alby spoke to the assembly.

"Ben of the Builders, you are hereby Banished for your attempted murder of Thomas the Newbie." Thomas heard Ben's pleas, ducking behind a tree to be out of the boy's sight. Rachel stood nearby, gave him a weak smile.

Ten Keepers, all boys, likely because a boy was being Banished, took places on the Pole. Their female counterparts staring impassively at the scene.

Ben screamed and screamed, clawing at the collar, but the combined strength of the Keepers forced him into the Maze. The pole was loosened at the last second and pulled back into the Glade. The stone wall blocking out Ben's screams.

Thomas realised he was crying, he turned to Rachel and she smiled sadly again, beckoning him to follow her away from the awful scene.

* * *

**A/N: Remembered I forgot to write the Banishing scene so here it is, please point it out if I do this I seem to have a knack for it.**


	8. Chapter 8

That night they slept behind the Homestead again, Thomas waited until everyone was asleep then started talking to Rachel through their weird mind link, they had been practising with it since this afternoon but it came very easily, he had remembered a few pieces of information, small and unimportant but Thomas still wanted to tell her. She was his best friend in this place.

 _I remembered a couple other things._  Thomas said through the link, hoping Rachel was still awake, Thomas could feel her presence somehow even though he could not see her in the dark. He found himself taking great comfort in their closeness.

 _What?_  Rachel sounded slightly excited and Thomas couldn't blame her, he wanted his full memory back more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

_Nothing that important. We all came from the same place, and we were the smartest ones there. I think that might have something to do with this._

_But we weren't the only ones._  She finished, and Thomas found himself knowing her next words before she even spoke them. If you could call it speaking.  _There were four of us, too bad we don't know who the other two are._

Thomas thought of the two other kids who had arrived in the Box today, the strange connection they felt to them.

 _I think we do._  Thomas replied, she responded before he could elaborate.

_I do too._

In the morning they started their Trials with the keepers, first it was the slicers, the ones who looked after and slaughtered the animals. The keepers, a boy called Winston and a girl whose name Thomas wouldn't attempt to pronounce, he was sure to butcher it and she looked like she would hit him. Both of them seemed to enjoy their job way too much. Thomas had to watch whilst Winston slaughtered a pig, a disgusting sight that made Thomas sure he would never eat anything from one again, he spent a lot of it talking to Rachel in his mind to take his mind off it.

 _That was disgusting._  Thomas told her as they were walking to lunch, he really hoped they weren't serving pork.

 _I don't want to know, I'm hungry and I don't want to be put off my meal._  Rachel responded with a smile. What do you think they found with that dead griever?

_Not sure, shouldn't they be back yet?_

_Ask Newt, he seems to be in charge today, or Harriet._

Entering the dining hall Thomas saw Newt and Harriet questioning Sonya and Miyoko at the back of the room, both girls looked exhausted. No sign of Minho or Alby, getting closer Thomas could hear some of their conversation.

"The thing just woke up and started flailing around, Minho and Alby ran a different way to us, I don't know what happened to them." Miyoko was describing between sips of water.

"So it wasn't dead?" Newt asked.

"Kinda obvious don't ya think." Sonya rolled her eyes, "and chill, they've got all day to get back here and Minho knows the Maze better than anyone."

"Let's hope so," Harriet sighed, "first we get two new greenies a month early who don't wake up, then we find a dead griever that isn't dead, what next. The sun gonna go out?" She laughed at her last remark but Thomas felt an inexplicable dread. Surely it couldn't happen?

Thomas walked away and got some food, they didn't seem to have seen him, he didn't miss the look of death Gally threw at him when he noticed Thomas. As if he thought everything bad that had ever happened to all of them was Thomas's fault. Again the strange feeling, could he have had some part in this? Thomas shook his head violently and tried to think of something happier.


	9. Chapter 9

Alby and Minho still didn't appear, the afternoon dragged on and Thomas could sense the mood in all of the Gladers.

"They should be back by now." Newt said when Thomas, Rachel and Chuck approached him at the west door.

"Why don't you send someone after them?" Thomas asked then instantly regretted it from the look on the boy's face.

"Against the rules, more get lost, everyone takes an oath at their first Gathering when they choose their profession. That they won't ever go in the maze unless they become a runner. Break it and you're in trouble.

As it got dark all the Gladers gathered at the door, waiting. The doors started to move, a noise louder than anything else Thomas was sure he had ever heard, the giant block of stone moving as easily as a glass door.

Then a flicker of movement to the left caught Thomas's eyes.

Something stirred inside the Maze, down the long corridor in front of him.

At first, a shot of panic raced through Thomas; he stepped back, worried it might be a Griever. But then two forms took shape, stumbling along the alley toward the Door. His eyes finally focused through the initial blindness of fear, and he realized it was Minho, with one of Alby's arms draped across his shoulders, practically dragging the boy along behind him. Minho looked up, saw Thomas, who knew his eyes must be bulging out of his head.

"They got him!" Minho shouted, his voice strangled and weak with exhaustion. Every step he took seemed like it could be his last.

Thomas was so stunned by the turn of events, it took a moment for him to act. "Newt!" he finally screamed, forcing his gaze away from Minho and Alby to face the other direction. "They're coming! I can see 'em!" Thomas knew he should run into the Maze and help, but the rule about not leaving the Glade was seared into his mind.

Newt had already made it back to the Homestead, but at Thomas's cry he immediately spun around and broke into a stuttering run toward the Door.

Thomas turned to look back into the Maze and dread washed through him. Alby had slipped out of Minho's clutches and fallen to the ground. Thomas watched as Minho tried desperately to get him back on his feet, then, finally giving up, started to drag the boy across the stone floor by the arms.

But they were still a hundred feet away.

The right wall was closing fast, seeming to quicken its pace the more Thomas willed it to slow down. There were only seconds left until it shut completely. They had no chance of making it in time. No chance at all.

Thomas turned to look at Newt: limping along as well as he could, he'd only made it halfway to Thomas.

Thomas looked back into the Maze, at the closing wall. Only a few feet more and it'd be over.

Minho stumbled up ahead, fell to the ground. They weren't going to make it. Time was up. That was it.

Thomas heard Newt scream something from behind him.

"Don't do it, Tommy! Don't you bloody do it!"

The rods on the right wall seemed to reach like stretched-out arms for their home, grasping for those little holes that would serve as their resting place for the night. The crunching, grinding sound of the Doors filled the air, deafening.

Five feet. Four feet. Three. Two.

Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the Maze.

The walls slammed shut behind him, the echo of its boom bouncing off the ivy-covered stone like mad laughter.


	10. Chapter 10

It took Thomas a moment to process what he had just done, jumped into the maze as the doors were closing, stuck there all night. Chuck's words repeated themselves over and over in his head-no one survives a night in the maze, ever. The grievers always got them, sometimes they never found the bodies. Minho was staring at him, knelt next to Alby not having said anything. Thomas was about to break the silence when Rachel's voice echoed in his skull.   
  
_ Thomas I swear that is the stupidest thing I ever saw.  _ She sounded angry but Thomas detected a hint of concern in her tone.   
  
_ Sorry, I'll make sure to get your permission next time _ . He sensed a sigh from Rachel.   
  
_ Let's just hope there is a next time. _ She finished and Thomas didn't say anything more, turning to Minho who was glaring at him.   
  
"Congratulations," the other boy said in a voice filled with sarcasm, "you just killed yourself." Thomas stared at him, he had given up so easily, when he was the person who knew the maze best.   
  
Alby lay on the stone, he looked on the edge of death, the ‘dead’ griever must have stung him, chasing the boys while Miyoko and Sonya managed to escape.

Minho was utterly convinced they would all die but Thomas refused to accept it, he wanted to get back to the Glade, get answers, talk to Rachel and so many other things. Thomas wasn’t going to die after only two days, and he wouldn’t leave Alby to die either.

 

They heard a noise, whirring like the griever Thomas had watched through the Glade window, it seemed to have happened months ago, rather than days. Minho bolted but Thomas stayed rooted to the spot, he wished that he wasn’t alone.

_ What are you doing in there. Everyone’s telling me there’s no hope for you. _ Rachel, of course.

 

_ Minho bolted, Alby’s nearly dead. _ An idea suddenly hit Thomas, the vines on the walls. He could tie Alby into them, keep him safe from the grievers, it would still be a roll of the dice as to whether or not he survived but now the die had only six sides, a better chance.

_ I’m going to tie Alby into the vines over the door, then try to keep myself alive. _ Thomas explained to Rachel, it was a long moment before she responded, the griever sounds multiplying and encroaching on him.

 

_ Good plan and good luck, I’m camping outside this door to see if you come back. _ It seemed that Rachel had the same policy on abandoning friends: never.

_ See you in the morning. _ Thomas tried to fill the sentence with optimism but found he had little to give, instead filled with a determination to survive.

 

Thomas tied Alby up in the vines and hoped it would be enough, the grievers coming ever closer. He pushed the other boy ten metres up and tied the vines as tightly as he dared, hanging exhausted from the wall.

A griever moved beneath them in the corridor, many times more terrifying when it could touch you, kill you.

 

Thomas stayed perfectly still, a beetle blade blinked on the opposite wall, revealing his exact location to anyone watching. He didn’t dare to move, or breathe.

Then the griever started to climb the wall.

 

Thomas was sure he had never been more scared in his life, the terrifying creature coming slowly towards him. He swung ahead on the vines, descended to the floor and ran, eventually outrunning the griever.

 

Only to find himself in the direct path of three others, Thomas turned, sprinted past the first griever and into the maze, before long he ran into Minho. The other boy was still alive and seemed to have regained some courage.

They stood at the edge of the cliff as the Grievers approached them, diving out of the way at the last second so the monsters fell into the abyss. It was exhilarating, but not in the best way.

 

After what seemed like decades the sun rose, Thomas and Minho began the long walk back to the Glade

 

They walked back through the door to the Glade, carrying Alby between them and setting him down on the ground as soon as they could. There were boys and girls staring at them but they mostly ignored Thomas, pelting Minho with questions about what had happened and moving Alby off to the Homestead. Thomas just stood there, too exhausted to really understand what was going on. The figure of a girl approached him and raised her arm, a second later Thomas felt a sharp pain on his cheek. Who would do that?

  
Thomas turned and saw Rachel staring at him, she looked an impossible mixture of angry and thrilled.   
"Come on Rach," he wasn't sure why he used the nickname but it felt right. "What was that for?"   
  
"For being a shucking idiot," she said before hugging him tightly, a gesture Thomas returned. "Please never do that again." Rachel added letting go of him. “I don’t want to be alone here.”   
  
Afterwards everything was a blur again, escorted to the Homestead, food, bandages and bed. Thomas fell asleep as soon as he lay down, the events of the night catching up to him.   



	11. Chapter 11

Thomas woke up to a scream, something told him it would be Alby, going through the Changing.   
  
Alby screamed throughout the rest of the day, had it even been worth saving him if he was in so much pain now? Thomas sat on a bench and everyone left him too it, even Rachel didn't bother him, in person or through their freaky mind link which he still didn't understand.   
  
Everything seemed to settle on Thomas as he sat and thought. He was trapped here like all the rest of them, surrounded by hideous monsters with no way out anyone could find.   
  
Rachel appeared not long after dark, struggling to carry two lots of dinner and water. Thomas was happy to see her, apart from Chuck she was his only friend in this place and something told him he had known her for far longer than just the last few days. If only he could remember.   
  
She sat next to him and they ate in silence, everyone else had probably gone off to sleep now, or they were watching them in a shadowy corner. Thomas honestly didn’t care.   
  
"Everyone's acting like you're some kind of god now. Fighting off grievers, pushing Alby up the wall and surviving all night. We’ll never be able to lay low again." Rachel said, before half draining her drink.   
  
"Well tell them to stop." Thomas realised he hadn't spoken in hours and his voice sounded raw.   
  
"Ya think I didn't try," Rachel laughed, "they're saying Alby's done with the worst part. I never want to hear someone scream like that again." Thomas couldn't have agreed more.   
  
"Anything new on the greenies?" Thomas asked and Rachel nodded.   
  
"Yeah, medis looked at me like I had three heads when they asked."   
  
"What?"   
  
"You know how they were both mumbling something when they were in the Box. Different but both the same word over and over?" Thomas nodded.   
  
"Well at some point before here I seem to have learnt to read lips. They've been muttering the same thing the whole time. The boy my name and the girl yours."   
  
That was a shock. Why would this comatose pair be whispering their names over and over? Was it to do with the strange connection he felt? Most strongly to the girl but also to the boy and Rachel to a lesser extent.   
  
Rachel smiled at his expression. "That's not all I got. When I was in there I felt something in my head, similar to when I talk to you. Almost like the two of them were doing it to each other, I couldn't hear what it was, and they didn't respond when I tried to talk to them, but I think they can do it as well."   
  
Thomas wasn't sure how to respond. It seemed like this girl and boy were just like Rachel and himself. Only they had come up unconscious and not yet woken.   
  
"In other news the keepers are having a Gathering to talk about you tomorrow and I won't be able to help you much.” Well that wasn't good news.   
  
"What do you mean much?"   
  
"You can talk to me," Rachel tapped her head, "if you need to but only if you need to. No one else needs to know we can do it."   
  
"I won't, they'll think I'm an idiot, if I'm taking huge pauses before speaking every time."   
  
They sat in silence for a moment, the Glade silent. Tomorrow would come, and the consequences of last night. But it wasn't here yet.


	12. Chapter 12

The Gathering was held in the Homestead, Rachel accompanied Thomas to the door but had to leave after wishing him luck. He wished she could had come with him but she wasn’t a Keeper and hadn’t been in the Maze.

 

Thomas was facing eleven boys and twelve girls, Alby was not present so the meeting was conducted by Harriet, as the leaders they both had equal say over what happened, even Newt deferred to her.

 

“So, we are here to discuss this greenie shank,” She pointed an accusatory finger at Thomas, “who managed to survive a night in the Maze, save Alby and kill four Grievers. The only problem is, he broke our number one rule: only runners are allowed in the Maze.” No one reacted to this recitation of the obvious, it seemed to be formality.

 

Thomas surveyed the Keepers, he only recognised a few: Harriet, Sonya, Newt, Minho, Miyoko, Gally and the medis, but he couldn’t remember which they were.

“He’s not the greenbean, he’s just a rule breaker.” Gally interjected, the girl next to him punched him on the shoulder.

“Shuck off Beth.” He didn’t seem as angry with her as he did with everyone else.

“Slim it the both of you.” Sonya glared.

 

Harriet rolled her eyes at them all, “we’ll start with the track-hoes then,” she pointed to the far right. “Zart, Charlotte, what do you think?”

 

“Well,” Zart began, his eyes darting around almost like he was waiting for someone else to tell him what to say. “I don’t know. He broke one of our most important rules. We can’t just let people think that’s okay.” He paused and looked down at his hands, rubbing them together. “But then again, he’s … changed things. Now we know we can survive out there, and that we can beat the Grievers.”

“We might be nearer to getting out then we’ve ever been before.” Charlotte finished, she seemed to be the more confident of the two but Thomas resolved to be nice to both of them.

 

“I bet it was all Minho.” Gally snorted.

“Shut the hell up or I’ll throw you out the door.” Newt growled at him, Beth had put her head in her hands, Thomas was surprised it had taken her so long to lose faith in him, she seemed the smarter one.

 

“I swear I will string up the next one of you who talks out of turn,” Harriet definitely looked like she meant it, she was nicer than Alby but was showing potential to be just as fierce. “Cooks.”

This pair Thomas did not know much about. The boy was Frypan, but that was probably a nickname, the girl was Jane.

 

Frypan smiled and sat up straighter. “Shank’s got more guts than I’ve fried up from every pig and cow in the last year.” He paused, as if expecting a laugh, but none came. “How stupid is this—he saves Alby’s life, kills a couple of Grievers, and we’re sitting here yappin’ about what to do with him. As Chuck would say, this is a pile of klunk.”

Thomas wanted to shake his hand, he was making a mental list of ‘decent Gladers’ to share with Rachel.

 

“I recommend we put him on our Council so he can teach us what he did out there.” Jane added on, smirking at the eruption this caused.

_ How’s it going? _ Rachel, of course.

_ Most of them think I’ve done something amazing, Gally’s working up to a stroke. _

_ I don’t like him, he told me you were a lost cause. I nearly broke his nose. _ Thomas smiled at that, Minho noticed and gave an unreadable look.

 

Most of the Keepers were in Thomas’s favour, thinking it was stupid to punish him for saving someone’s life. Winston thought that he should be punished to keep order, but didn’t think that he had been wrong. It seemed that each set of Keepers only had one recommendation for what to do with him.

 

Gally thought that Thomas was a spy from the Creators, the Glade name for those who had sent them here, Rachel too. 

Beth thought he should be punished but was nowhere near as vehement. Gally kept ranting about how they were spies come to destroy everything and must have something to do with the comatose boy and girl. Eventually Beth seemed to have had enough, she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room, he was cursing her and struggling but she was strong enough to keep him in check.

 

Harriet was holding back laughter, “I love it when she does that.”

“Hmm, Beth recommends punishment,” Newt was writing in a notebook, “Gally is being a shuckface as usual.” Beth didn’t return.

 

Minho recommended that Thomas should replace him as Keeper of the Runners, because he had been braver than him. Miyoko nodded in agreement. Thomas was shocked, no one in the room spoke for a few minutes. Everyone was talking at once, he just wanted to get out of here, talk to Rachel.

 

“ALL OF YOU SHUT IT NOW!!!” Harriet screamed. “I swear I will suspend the lot of you and look for replacements.” Thomas was wondering if all the meetings went like this, if so, how did anything ever get done?

 

Thomas put his hand up to speak, feeling like a child in a classroom, but it was a universal signal. Newt noticed.

“Slim it all of you, the Greenie wants to speak up for himself and this meeting can’t get any more shucked so we might as well let him.

 

Thomas quickly gathered his thoughts, grasping for the right words inside the swirling cloud of frustration, confusion and anger in his mind. “I don’t know why Gally hates me. I don’t care. He seems psychotic to me. As for who I really am, you all know just as much as I do. But if I remember correctly, we’re here because of what I did out in the Maze, not because some idiot thinks I’m evil.”

 

“He makes a good point,” Miyoko spoke up for the first time. “Let’s just vote and get this over with.”

“We can’t vote without all members…” Winston started to protest.

“Gally’s being psycho, Alby’s been stung by a Griever and Beth is preventing Gally from committing murder. Cast your votes.” Harriet reminded Thomas of an overworked kindergarten teacher.

 

“Here’s my recommendation,” Newt said, ignoring both Harriet and Sonya glaring at him. “Thomas broke our bloody Number One Rule, so he gets one day in the Slammer as punishment. I also recommend we elect him as a Runner, effective the second this meeting’s over. You’ve proven more in one night than most trainees do in weeks. As for you being the buggin’ Keeper, forget it.” He looked over at Minho. “Stupid idea.”

 

Everyone cast their votes, the majority agreed with Newt, Thomas was going to be a runner, he still wasn’t sure why he wanted it so badly. Suddenly he remembered Rachel.

_ Do you want to be a runner, they’re making me one and I think I can get you in _ . Thomas asked her, she hadn’t been in the Maze but he somehow knew she could handle it.

_ Sure I do, what’s happening in there, Beth dragged Gally out and over to the Deadheads and there is an insane amount of screaming? _ Rachel replied to him immediately.

_ Insanity is happening in here, I’ll tell you the rest later _ .

 

“Can I ask something of you?” Thomas tested the waters, everyone seemed much calmer now.

“What, Greenie?” Harriet looked up from the notes Newt had been scribbling.

“Rachel, the girl who came with me, she gets to be a runner too.” They all looked at him as if he had asked for the moon on a silver platter, in a way he had.

Minho broke the silence, “fine by me, as long as she can keep up.”

“We are having a talk about authority later.” Harriet’s eyes focused on Newt, Sonya, Minho and Miyoko in turn. “Greenie, go with Minho, the rest of you get to work.”


	13. Chapter 13

“You were shucking brave in there Greenie, any normal meeting and Harriet or Alby would have had you in the Slammer for a week just for asking.” Minho told Thomas once they had left the Homestead, Miyoko was following them.

“Now where’s ya friend?” She cast her eyes around the Glade, Thomas couldn’t see Rachel.

_ Where are you? Come to the middle of the Glade and make it look accidental.   _ Thomas instructed her, he saw her turn a corner from the Gardens and made to walk over to her.

Chuck jogged up to them and started talking to Minho breathlessly.

“The medis sent me, Alby’s thrashing around all crazy, he wants to talk to Thomas and Rachel.” Rachel ran over.

“There really is something about you Greenies,” Miyoko shook her head, “Come find us after.” Her and Minho headed for a corner of the Glade that Thomas was yet to explore.

They followed Chuck back to the Homestead, Sonya, Newt and Harriet waited at the top of the stairs.

“You run along now,” Sonya told Chuck, the younger boy didn’t need asking twice. No one ever wanted to be around the Changing, it seemed.

Entering the room Harriet shoved Thomas and Rachel into chairs and perched on a small table, Newt and Sonya remaining stood.

“What did you want to talk to ‘em for Alby?” She questioned, staring down at her friend on the bed.

“Them, them and the other two that came up, I saw them.” Alby sat bolt upright. “I only wanted Thomas and Rachel, the rest of you. Get. Out.” The last two words came as a shout. Newt began to protest but Sonya grabbed his hand as she left, Harriet followed, muttering about the day’s events.

“I know who you are, you and the other two, I remember it all. Who you were, what you did.” Thomas was struck with a great desire to know who he was, who Rachel was.

“Tell us.” He prompted urgently.

“It ain’t pretty, it’s horrible, we don’t want to remember.” Alby seemed about to continue but suddenly he was clutching his own throat, thrashing as if an unseen presence was attempting to strangle him.

“Help! Thomas come on.” Rachel shouted, pulling his arm. She attempted to pry Alby’s fingers from his neck, but his grip was stronger than her hands.

Rachel’s screaming had alerted the three outside and they ran in. Harriet and Sonya wrenched Alby’s arms from his neck, they were stronger than Rachel. Newt grabbed one leg and yelled at Thomas to grab the other, it sprang from his grasp until Rachel started to help.

Alby continued to thrash but couldn’t hurt himself further with the five of them holding him down.

As suddenly as it had started Alby’s struggling stopped, Harriet and Sonya reluctantly letting go of his arms.

Alby looked up, eyes droopy, as if he was on the edge of slipping into a deep sleep. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Don’t know what happened. It was like … something was controlling my body. I’m sorry….”

“You tried to bloody kill yourself.” Sonya stared at him, she was the youngest person in the room, Thomas noted, but as strong as Newt and Alby.

“If it wasn’t you then who?” Newt demanded.

“The Creators, they…” Alby began but Harriet put a hand over his mouth. Thomas thought she might be the only person he wouldn’t punch for that.

“No more talking, you just tried to throttle yourself and I bet that’s why. Go to sleep.”

Alby fell back onto the mattress obediently, “be careful with the new Greenies, and protect the maps.” He instructed vaguely.

Newt shook his head.

“Now out!” Thomas didn’t need telling twice, they all left, Harriet shutting the door.

“What is going on?” Sonya shook her head, “you two are some sort of catalyst for the weird.” She considered Thomas and Rachel, “go and stay out of trouble.”

“Tonight, Tommy’s in the Slammer, and tomorrow you’re both running” Newt told them. Thomas and Rachel started down the stairs.

“We need to find Gally, maybe throw him in the Slammer till he calms down.”

Thomas heard Harriet whisper.

“This all so strange.” Rachel started as they left, “Alby, Ben, the two from the Box, all of them saying things are going to change. I think Sonya must be right about the catalyst thing.”

They wandered for a while and Thomas considered everything. Eventually Newt came and found them.

“You two, come with me, you’re tellin’ me everything Alby told you, then you’re gonna stare at those two sleepin’ shanks till your eyes bleed. We need to know what’s goin’ on with you two.” They followed him back to the Homestead, up the stairs away from Alby’s room into another.

The boy and girl lay on beds on either side of a room, “We think they’ll come out of it soon,” the male Keeper said, Thomas couldn’t remember if he was Jeff or Clint. Neither of the girls were present. “Keep muttering.”

Thomas remembered what Rachel had told him, that she could sense that they were also telepathic but would not answer her. He knew what she meant, being near them caused a buzzing sensation in his mind.

_ Can you hear me? _ Thomas sent out a general message, but no one answered.

_ Know what I mean? _ He knew that the voice was Rachel’s because it sounded just like her audible one.

“They keep saying their names, he hers and her his,” Clint pointed to Thomas and Rachel, “over and over, that and that ‘it all has to end’.”

“Sit down,” Newt pulled up a chair by the girl’s bed and Thomas sat, then the process was repeated with Rachel on the other side of the room.

“You think you know them?” Newt asked, Thomas nodded, and Rachel replied ‘yes’. It was like a flutter in his brain, he did know this girl, and even though he had only seen her lifeless body it was a deeper connection than that he felt with Rachel, and the boy too when he came to think of it.

_ Teresa _

Thomas heard a name in his mind and gasped.

“What’s that Tommy, you got something?” Newt inquired.

“Is there a Teresa here?” Thomas didn’t know why he had heard it, and there were so many girls here.

“No, I can show you the list of all the sticks and shanks that’ve ever been stuck in this buggin’ place. Got anything Rachel?”

“Aris.” She replied vaguely, looking up straight at Thomas.

“Must have sprung out of your shuckin’ memory blocks.” Newt started.

_ Thomas _ . He heard it again, it wasn’t Rachel’s voice but practise with her was the only reason Thomas didn’t scream. The voice was frilly and feminine, the girl’s. She was definitely telepathic just like him and Rachel, probably the boy - Aris - too.

_ Tom, we’re the last ones. It’ll end soon. It has to. _

_ Me and Aris, we’re the triggers, but it was us, me, you, Aris, Rachel. We did this to them, to us. _ Thomas needed out of this room, to put his head back together. He had to talk to Rachel, could she hear it too?

“Nothing else?” Newt questioned.

“No.” Thomas lied, Rachel murmured assent. Was she lying or not?

“Well, it’s getting dark, so we’re done for today, have some dinner and make yourselves scarce.” Thomas followed Rachel out of the room and to the corner behind the Homestead when they slept. Dragging their sleeping bags away from the mass of them where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Did you hear anything in your head in there?” Thomas asked Rachel.

“Yes, he said that they were the triggers and that the four of us did ‘this’” She told him, wringing her hands,

“The same, just the same.” Thomas replied. “What does it all mean.”

“I don’t know but should we still keep it a secret?”

“Secret, just for a little while.” Thomas didn’t know what would happen when Newt and the other’s figured it out, but he wasn’t ready to admit that he had possibly caused all their suffering.


	14. Chapter 14

They were woken in the morning by Chuck and Flo who told them Gally had ran into the Maze after the Gathering when they must have been with Alby. Beth had shouted after him that if he ‘got Stung again she wouldn’t bother dragging him back’ before disappearing in a foul mood.

“But I think he’s hiding in the Glade somewhere, all his cronies will be able to find a place.” Chuck speculated. “Harriet said that you’re in the Slammer Thomas, all day.” Thomas knew better to argue with the punishment, it wasn’t like he’d be lonely when he could talk to Rachel.

“Tommy, get over here,” Newt called from over by the Gardens, “Rachel can bring ya your meals.” She definitely seemed better at staying under the radar than Thomas was, despite being with him almost 24/7 she got less attention from not having run into the Maze and sent four Grievers flying off the Cliff.

Newt led Thomas over to the Slammer, a tiny concrete building hidden behind the Homestead.

“Have fun,” the older boy laughed as he locked the door. “You’re not half bad, shank. But friends or no, gotta run things properly, keep us buggers alive. Think about that while ya sit here and stare at the bloody walls.”

Thomas was left alone until noon when Rachel appeared, she was becoming far more adept at carrying two trays, Thomas noticed. That and a great friend to bother to do as much for him as she did. He had overheard Harriet and Sonya discussing how she had vouched for him after he had returned from the Maze.

Rachel told him about how Alby was up and around again and there was no sign of Gally, everything was ‘back to normal’ or what passed as normal in the Glade.

Once the doors had closed for the night Alby came to fetch Thomas, looking like himself again.

“About yesterday…” Thomas began, following the other boy into the middle of the Glade. Alby cut him off. “I don’t know shank, it was just you four, you helped the Creators, sent us here. It’s starting to fade, might not even be real.”

“Do you know what choked you?” Thomas inquired, hoping he wouldn’t set Alby off again it had taken five people to stop it last time.

“No, and I’m not sayin’ what else I saw. Don’t wanna strangle myself again.” This seemed to be a cue to drop the subject. They stayed silent until they reached the middle of the Glade and Thomas left Alby to look for Rachel.

He found her laughing with Chuck and Flo near to where they slept, a plate Thomas assumed was his on the ground by Rachel’s feet.

“Hey, Thomas,” Chuck called out to him, “enjoy prison?”

“Most boring day I’ve ever had.” Thomas replied, sitting down by Rachel and starting on his meal. Roast beef, potatoes and cookies, one of the best he’d had here so far.

“Minho told me a story earlier,” Rachel looked at him, talking out loud as they had to when others were around. “About a woman trapped in a maze, she escaped by keeping her right hand on the wall so eventually she found the exit.”

“Doesn’t that work here?” Thomas asked, it was far too simple a solution for them to have been stuck in the Maze two years if the best runner knew such a story.

“Obviously not.” Rachel rolled her eyes at him. “All paths lead back to the Glade.”


	15. Chapter 15

Thomas and Rachel were woken by Miyoko while it was still dark, boys and girls snoring as they crept across, following her. Thomas was reminded of their first morning in the Glade, only this time there wouldn’t be a glass wall to protect them from the Grievers.

They were lead to the Homestead where Minho was rifling through supplies in a closet, running shoes, digital wristwatches and some other things it was too dim to see.

“Put these on,” Minho through them both a watch, “for Runners and Keepers only, make sure we don’t get stuck out there.” The boy turned to them, seemed to skin his eyes over both of them, especially Rachel. It occurred to Thomas that they hadn’t yet met, Rachel had relayed that Sonya told her she was being allowed to run to ‘make it look even’ and ‘piss Gally off’.

 

Even if he didn’t know much about the outside world Thomas could understand why teenagers were usually kept away from positions of power.

“What size shoes do you take?” Minho’s question returned Thomas to the present, taking off his left sneaker to see.

“Four.” Rachel already knew, it seemed, this made Thomas feel somewhat foolish.

“Eleven.” He announced after spending a moment squinting at the number.

“You’re a pair of opposing extremes.” Miyoko laughed, hair falling about her face as she tied it up in a long tail.

Minho chuckled at her joke, handing them each a pair of very high quality running shoes, Thomas put them on. The other boy stacked items on the floor, one for Thomas and the other presumably for Rachel.

“Backpack, water bottles, lunch pack, shorts, t-shirts.” All were placed in front of Thomas, along with a pair of strange looking underwear.

“That’s all of it.” Miyoko passed what looked like a bra to Rachel and surveyed the piles. “Go change and be back here in two minutes.”

 

Once that was done Thomas assumed that they would be good to go, Minho gave him  look of disgust when he asked.

“You’ve got to be smart to be a Runner, we still need breakfast, packed lunch and weapons.”

“Weapons?” Rachel echoed, voicing Thomas’s thoughts exactly.

“Yeah stick, weapons, what d’you think happens if you run into a Griever?” Miyoko shook her head, beckoning them to follow her and Minho into the small room.

 

Minho pulled away some boxes to reveal a set of wooden stairs.

“So shanks like Gally can’t get at them.” He explained, switching on a torch and leading them all down creaking wooden stairs into a damp basement. When a lightbulb was turned on Thomas saw that the room was lined with all manner of deadly equipment, bows, knives, saws, even a couple of maces.

“No guns.” Rachel remarked, staring at the walls, most of the items were very dusty and obviously unused which gave Thomas some hope.

“Creators wouldn’t ever give us any, even when we asked.” Miyoko sighed. Guns, Thomas thought, would be great for dealing with Grievers, he had heard they could request supplies through the Box but not all wishes were granted, they weren’t given a TV for example.

 

Minho handed Thomas and Rachel a pair of sharp knives each, showing them where they fitted in their packs. He explained that the weapons room was a secret and if they told anyone about it the consequences would be serious.

“The last time an idiot found their way in here they got banished.” Miyoko warned.

 

An hour later, with Thomas’s thoughts slightly less dark, he stood with Minho, Rachel and Miyoko at the metal door of the Map Room.

When it was opened Thomas saw a wooden table and eight trunks, locked tightly shut.

Minho grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and started drawing. Thomas leaned in to get a better look and saw that Minho had drawn a big box that filled almost the entire page. Then he filled it with smaller boxes until it looked exactly like an enclosed tic-tac-toe board, three rows of three squares, all the same size. He wrote the word GLADE in the middle, then numbered the outside squares from one to eight, starting in the upper left corner and going clockwise. Lastly, he drew little notches here and there.   
  
“These are the Doors,” Minho said. “You know about the ones from the Glade, but there are four more out in the Maze that lead to Sections One, Three, Five, and Seven. They stay in the same spot, but the route there changes with the wall movements every night.” He finished, then slid the paper over to rest in front of Thomas.   
Thomas picked it up, completely fascinated that the Maze was so structured, and studied it as Minho kept talking. Rachel leant over his shoulder, lips moving silently.   
  
“So we have the Glade, surrounded by eight Sections, each one a completely self-contained square and unsolvable in the two years since we began this freaking game. The only thing even approaching an exit is the Cliff, and that ain’t a very good one unless you like falling to a horrible death.” Minho tapped the Map. “The walls move all over the shuck place every evening—same time as our Doors close shut. At least, we think that’s when, because we never really hear walls moving any other time.”   
“The main corridors right outside the Doors don’t ever change. Only the ones a little deeper out.”   
  
“We always have at least sixteen Runners, including the Keepers. Two for each Section. It takes us a whole day to map out our area—hoping against hope there’s an exit—then we come back and draw it up, a separate page for each day.” Miyoko explained pointing over at one of the trunks. “That’s why those things are shuck full of Maps.”

“It repeats every month, but never a clue, never figured out why.” Minho shook his head ruefully. Thomas wondered at the impossibility of this puzzle, everyone in the Glade seemed intelligent, some even like geniuses, how had they not figured this out in two years with no other real objective?

“We don’t know what we’re looking for, or where to find it other than the Maze in general, but we can’t give up.” Miyoko stretched as she stood.

“Time to run.”

  
**A/N: If anyone is interested in helping me with ideas for this story PM me or comment it would be much appreciated. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed.**   



	16. Chapter 16

They ran off into the Maze into Section Eight, Minho told Thomas and Rachel that the two of them would run together once being trained. They followed Minho and Miyoko who ran like they were one person split in two. They turned at the same moment, running in step, not needing to speak. Thomas considered the telepathy he shared with Rachel, and apparently Aris and Teresa as well, it would be a great advantage.

 

They ran through a passage to Section One, Minho cutting down a piece of ivy to mark the trail. Thomas was reminded of the story of Hansel and Gretel, how was it he could remember that.

After a few times, Thomas and Rachel were told to share the burden of cutting the ivy, their knives cut it easily after a few tries. Every few turns Miyoko wrote something in a notebook, Minho occasionally pointing out what she should put down.

 

They took a break after three or four miles, drinking some water and eating their apples.

“What happened that day with the dead Griever?” Rachel asked tentatively, they weren’t treating her like a tagalong but Thomas remembered the reasons Sonya had given for letting her run.

“It wasn’t dead, just sat there like a wax statue until we got right up to it. Alby poked at it with his foot like an idiot and that bad boy suddenly sprang to life, spikes flaring, its fat body rollin’ all over him. Something was wrong with it, though—didn’t really attack like usual. It seemed like it was mostly just trying to get out of there, and poor Alby was in the way.”   
  
“So it ran away from you guys?” From what Thomas had seen only a few nights before, he couldn’t imagine it.   
  
Minho shrugged. “Yeah, I guess—maybe it needed to get recharged or something. I don’t know. Sonya and Miyoko bolted back to the Glade.”   
  
“What could’ve been wrong with it? Did you see an injury or anything?” Thomas didn’t know what kind of answer he was searching for, but he was sure there had to be a clue or lesson to learn from what happened.

 

“Where did it go?” Thomas could see the cogs whirring in Rachel’s mind as she considered the problem.

“We don’t know, and we’ve never been suicidal enough to follow them into their den.” Miyoko gave her a look that dared her to question that fact. Running into anywhere full of Grievers seemed very stupid.

 

Minho got up and sprinted around a corner, forcing the rest of them to follow him. As they ran something tickled Thomas’s mind about where the Griever had gone when it sprang to life, it must be some sort of clue.

They ran for two more hours before lunch, the time dotted with breaks that became shorter and shorter every time, the Maze was full of beetle blades, some of them seemed to be deliberately following them.

 

“What does WICKED mean?” Thomas inquired, it was a strange word to be emblazoned on the creatures.

“World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department.” Minho recited. “Not that we know what it means, there are plaques with it on all over this place, if we keep moving we might be able to show you shanks one.”

“There’s one right there.” Miyoko pointed to a spot in the ivy absently. Thomas watched Rachel move it aside and read the words Minho had recited carved into a square of metal.

 

They ran for another hour before turning back towards the Glade, the sun was halfway across the sky.

The rest of the day was a blur of exhaustion to Thomas. They made it back to the Glade, went to the Map Room, wrote up the day’s Maze route, compared it to the previous day’s. Then there were the walls closing and dinner. Chuck tried talking to him and Rachel several times, but all Thomas could do was nod and shake his head, only half hearing, he was so tired.

 

They fell to sleep earlier than normal in their usual spot. Thomas had wanted to talk to Rachel but she fell asleep even before he did.


	17. Chapter 17

Thomas was woken by a girl's voice in his mind. It wasn't Rachel, so it had to be Teresa.

_We just triggered the Ending._

_You heard it didn't you?_  This time the voice was Rachel.  _I heard him and you heard her._

 _Exactly._  There had to be a reason that Thomas only heard Teresa and Rachel only heard Aris. But it was blatantly obvious that all four of them could all communicate if they wished.

"What time is it?" Thomas inquired, this time out loud.

"Almost wake-up," Rachel answered, Thomas could hardly see her in the weak light. "But where's the sun?"

The sky was grey like slate, all of it. This had to be the Ending Teresa had spoken of, part of Thomas didn't want to know what it meant, but the more sensible part of him knew he must.

As the morning progressed and more and more Gladers woke up a sense of dread came to hang over the Glade. There was no panic, but the almost tangible fear permeated every word and action.

The sky must be artificial, fake, how many other things here weren't real?

"Thomas! Rachel!" Thomas looked up to see Chuck and Flo running over to them, looking scared.

"Do you know what's going on?" He wanted desperately to be able to tell them yes, that it would be okay, but he couldn't. Luckily Rachel stepped up to save the situation.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, now go and do your jobs." She smiled warmly at the two of them and they left reluctantly, she was much better at handling such situations than Thomas was.

Thomas and Rachel found Minho and Miyoko, they went running for their second day of training. The atmosphere much more subdued than it had been the day before. They were mapping Section One.

Miyoko was in front and suddenly stopped, shoving an arm out to stop Minho. Thomas only just prevented himself from careening into them.

"Griever up ahead, just sitting there." She explained as they pulled back.

"What the shuck is going on?" Minho whispered to no one, and no one had any answers to give.

They watched the Griever quietly, it didn't move towards them but eventually got up. It was heading for the Cliff.

Minho and Miyoko began to run after it at a safe distance, giving Thomas and Rachel little choice but to follow. The creature ran to the Cliff then threw itself off into the blackness, disappearing.

"There has to be something down there, that's the third time they've done it. The one that attacked Alby, the ones we tricked that night, and now this." Minho seemed to be talking to no one in particular, it was as if he was trying to make sense of all the weirdness.

"Looks like magic," Miyoko added, "just like the sun."

"It could be a way out for us too." Rachel said suddenly.

"Have you got that much of a death wish?" Minho shook his head. "You two are something else." It seemed like reasonable logic to Thomas, but he had figured out some time ago that Rachel and himself were quite different to the rest of the Gladers.

Thomas threw a rock off the Cliff, concentrating deeply on it, it fell a short distance then disappeared, as if falling through a pane of water. He tried it again and the same thing happened, it was no fluke.

"How did we miss this?" Miyoko's voice was full of shocked awe. "The Griever Hole."

"As good a name as any, now let's keep running." Minho instructed and they did, Thomas unable to keep the strange and vital new development out of his mind.

The running and mapping part of the day was the same as the last. The map Thomas collaborated on with Rachel was declared passable and stowed in a chest before they were dragged off to see Alby, Newt, Sonya and Harriet.

The leaders all looked very stressed, they were afraid there might be a panic, with the sun having disappeared and the Box still not having left to bring new supplies, which they needed desperately.

They were still very interested in what had now been officially christened The Griever Hole, but Alby quickly vetoed Thomas and Rachel's idea that it was the way out.

They listened to their superiors, it was strange to think of them that way, for a long time.

Then a voice popped into Thomas's head, again, and again it was not Rachel.

 _Please come and find us now!_  The single sentence sounded frantic, a glance showed that Rachel must be hearing something similar.

Then another sentence, one that made no sense.

_The Maze is a code._

It was about then that Emme, the female Keeper of the Medis, ran in.

"They're awake." She panted, nothing else had to be said.

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**A/N: Thank you to everyone has reviewed this story so far. If you have any ideas for oneshots of chapters from the POVs of other characters that I should write feel free to tell me in a review or PM.**


	18. Chapter 18

Thomas looked at Rachel and her expression was a mirror for his emotions: shocked confusion. She must certainly have heard Aris the same way that he had heard Teresa, if Thomas ever met the famed Creators his first question would be how this telepathy thing worked, and how was everyone else able to figure it out before he did?

"Come on you two." Sonya snapped Thomas and Rachel out of their silent contemplation. "Newt says that you know their names and they know yours so we'll have you talk to them." It made perfect sense but Thomas wasn't exactly sure he wanted to comply. Maybe if the four of them could sit together and talk without anyone eavesdropping, but he seriously doubted that would happen.

The news seemed to have spread through the Glade like wildfire. Everyone staring at Thomas and Rachel as they followed Newt and Sonya to the Homestead, Alby and Harriet were still discussing supplies and the disappearance of the sun.

"Don't all you shanks have work to do, we know everything's screwed up but it can't all go to klunk just yet." Newt yelled at the crowd that had gathered, it reluctantly dispersed.

They were led up to a room that Thomas hadn't seen yet, on the second floor of the Homestead. Newt pushed the door open and gestured for Thomas and Rachel to go inside.

"We'll be waitin' out here, holler if anythin' weird happens." He instructed.  
"Should I start screaming now or later?" Rachel asked with a deadpan look, making both the co-leaders laugh.

"You two aren't half bad," Sonya smiled, "now go figure out what the buggin' hell is going on in this place."

Entering the room the new boy and girl - Aris and Teresa - Thomas had to remind himself, were sat on a pair of chairs, looking confused. Another set of chairs had been placed opposite them, it was blatantly obvious that Thomas and Rachel were expected to find out a lot more than he thought they could.

"Do you know what's going on here?" It was Aris who asked, he was surprisingly calm.

"Not a clue, we only got here a week ago and from what I've seen the whole place has turned upside down in that time." Rachel sat in the seat in front of him, forcing Thomas to face Teresa, it was the most awkward encounter he could remember, but luckily it seemed as if the feeling was mutual for everyone.

"I know we triggered the Ending, and I know the three of you." Teresa looked at them all with her disconcertingly bright eyes. _And I know we can do this, but I don't know what any of it means._ She added silently.

Thomas considered his own memories, he recognised the Glade, and the Maze. He definitely knew Teresa, or more precisely definitely had known Teresa. With Aris and Rachel it was a flicker, the same feeling but weaker. He also knew that it was the same for Rachel, seemed to be the same for all of them. They were special cases in a lot of ways, and were inadvertently ruining the ordered microcosmic society of the Glade.

"So can you remember anything?" Thomas inquired hopefully, this pair knew more than most and certainly seemed to know him.

"Not really, just a few things, it all faded when we woke up. We just know a few things, what we told you." Aris looked more irritated at the amnesia than anything else.

"That we did this, and that the Maze is a code." Rachel gestured to everything, it was obvious she meant the whole Maze and Glade, Thomas was inexplicably reminded of the word Experiment on the plaque in the Maze.

"I wrote this, on my arm," Teresa pulled up her sleeve, black ink a stark contrast against white skin. WICKED is Good it had been scrawled there by someone in an obvious hurry.

"It was in my mind and I thought I had to remember it. Too bad I don't know what it means." She groaned with frustration.

"You wrote WICKED on your arm, it says WICKED on the beetle blades, and you can make WICKED from the initials of the words on the Maze plaques. World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department." Now that Rachel said it it was obvious, Thomas was annoyed with himself for not having figured it out.

"That sounds like WICKED is an organisation, that sent us here and control this place." Thomas voiced his thoughts aloud, a great piece of the puzzle seemed to have come together. But he couldn't understand why they would be described as Good they sent Grievers after kids for goodness' sake.

"And we worked for them." Teresa added, it was a puzzle Thomas could not have solved alone, but understanding that he was intelligent, and working with three others who seemed just as smart, something the Gladers had been unable to decipher in two years was unravelled in minutes.

They looked at each other, struggling to understand this new development. It was all an experiment, all of it, they were lab rats, all of them.

Suddenly there was the sound of shouting out in the hallway.

"Alby, shucking calm down!" Harriet was yelling, it sounded like she had also been running. The door slammed open and Alby stormed in, Harriet was stood with Sonya and Newt, wearing her trademark 'Why do I have to deal with these idiots?' expression.

"What's wrong?" Thomas said it as tentatively as he could manage. Alby strode over to him and grabbed his shirt, pulling him off his chair.

"You idiot, do you know what time it is? The shuck Doors haven't closed."

* * *

**A/N: I know this chapter is kind of short, you can probably expect the next one by Sunday. Please review if you have any one shot ideas, with what characters and what part of the story.**


	19. Chapter 19

Thomas was shocked to silence, they would be completely unprotected from the Grievers, at the creatures' mercy.

The four leaders outside were engaged in an intense conversation and Thomas forced himself to focus on that to prevent panic.

"Maybe we should kill them. The newbies, they started this." Sonya said it so calmly that Thomas had to go over the words in his mind to realise she had said them.

"That's a little extreme, don't ya think?" Newt gave her a strange look but Thomas could see that he and Alby were actually considering it.

"Alright, nobody is killing anyone." Harriet took charge.

"The Slammer." Alby suggested, the fact that he was accepting that Harriet was in charge seemed entirely against his character.

"We didn't mean to do anything if that helps." Aris interjected, matching Sonya's resulting glare.

"Exactly, now let's focus on the bigger issue here." Harriet continued. "What the shuck are we going to do?"

The Glade erupted into chaos, Thomas was stood watching, with Rachel, Teresa and Aris, not knowing what to do. He had looked for Chuck and Flo but couldn't see them. The Builders were erecting pitiful barricades under Beth's direction, the Cooks moving all food into the Homestead, weapons and torches distributed.

"Those aren't going to do anything against Grievers." Rachel gestured towards a pile of sacks being shoved into gaps in one of the barricades.

"I'd say they're just trying to prevent people from panicking." Thomas replied, not knowing what he should do.

"Should we help?" Teresa asked vaguely, but none of them moved. They had been told to stay out of the way, and for good reason: half of the Gladers disliked Thomas and all of them distrusted Aris and Teresa, Rachel had been tarred with the same brush. Staying away from the panicked mass of armed people who hated them seemed to be the most sensible option.

"If you're just going to stand there get your butts inside." Minho called as he passed them, carrying an armful of sticks, Thomas couldn't guess their function. The four of them turned and followed him, a good amount of the Gladers had already entered.

Someone absently gave Rachel a large pile of blankets.

"You and Aris find somewhere for us to sleep." Thomas told her. "Teresa, you're with me, we need to talk to Alby and Harriet."

After everyone was settled in the Homestead and it had been barricaded as best they could, Thomas found himself in a small upstairs room with Alby, Harriet, Newt, Sonya and Minho, he wasn't sure where Miyoko was. Teresa hadn't been allowed to enter so had gone back to Aris and Rachel.

"Closest I've come so far," Newt was saying, "to hangin' it all up. Shuck it all and kiss a Griever goodnight. Supplies cut, bloody gray skies, walls not closing. But we can't give up, and we all know it. The buggers who sent us here either want us dead or they're givin' us a spur. This or that, we gotta work our arses off till we're dead or not dead."

Alby looked up, surprise crossing his face as if he hadn't known that anyone else was in the room. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Good that. But you've seen what happens at night. Just because Greenie the freaking superboy made it doesn't mean the rest of us can."

Harriet nudged him, Thomas was getting a feeling that she was really in charge, for all Alby's bravado, or at least she was after Alby's Changing.

"I'm with Thomas and Newt. We gotta quit boohooing and feeling sorry for ourselves." Minho rubbed his hands together and sat forward in his chair. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, you guys can assign teams to study the Maps full-time while the Runners go out. We'll pack our stuff shuck-full so we can stay out there a few days."

"I'll go with ya." Sonya must have noticed Thomas's surprise because her next words were addressed directly to him. "Me and Newt used to run, till he hurt his leg." There was a sadness there, as if she hadn't wanted to give it up.

Alby protested that no one would stay in the Maze for days, but Harriet was all for the idea, agreeing with everyone else that they couldn't just hide forever, the Grievers would eventually overpower them.

"Put me in charge of the maps, I'll go study them now." Alby was suddenly close to his old self, even having only known him for days, Thomas could tell that the Changing was aptly named.

Newt shook his head. "Forget that, Alby. Already heard the bloody Grievers moaning out there. We can wait till the wake-up."

Alby leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Hey, you shucks are the ones giving me all the pep talks. Don't start whining when I actually listen. If I'm gonna do this, I gotta do it, be the old me. I need something to dive into."

Relief flooded Thomas. He'd grown sick of all the contention.

Alby stood up. "Seriously, I need this." He moved toward the door of the room as if he really meant to leave.

"You can't be serious," Newt said. "You can't go out there now!" The others didn't try to dissuade him, not even Harriet.

"I'm going, and that's that." Alby took his ring of keys from his pocket and rattled them mockingly—Thomas couldn't believe the sudden bravery. "See you shucks in the morning."

And then he walked out.

Leaving, Thomas saw that everyone was turning in to sleep. He found Teresa, Aris and Rachel on the second floor, having made a sort of sleeping area with blankets and the fact that everyone was avoiding them. Chuck and Flo were asleep nearby, curled innocently close to each other.

The room soon filled up with other Gladers, almost body to body, the bed went to Newt, Sonya lying by the side of it. Thomas was between Rachel and Teresa, Aris on Rachel's other side, he wasn't uncomfortable but knew there was no way he'd be able to sleep.

 _I hate this, waiting for something to happen._  Thomas could somehow tell Rachel's message had been heard by everyone else.

 _Agreed, now get your elbow out of my ribs._  Aris grumbled back at her. Thomas agreed too, hardly anyone was asleep but everyone was at least pretending.

 _Something's going to happen, and it won't be good._  Teresa's observation was just as accurate. Thomas noticed that these telepathic conversations made his head hurt but they hadn't when it was only him and Rachel, maybe four people put extra strain on the system.

 _Quiet, you're giving me a headache._  Thomas turned over, hoping that would signal that he was out of the conversation, he didn't know how to make it so he couldn't hear them.

 _Goodnight, Mr Sunshine._  Thomas did not appreciate Teresa's sarcasm, it was going to be a long night.


	20. Chapter 20

Grievers wailed outside and no one could sleep, tossing and turning. The grey light outside was just the same, no definite way to tell the time, but Thomas guessed it was about two in the morning.

Suddenly there was the sound of a Griever, its metal parts scraping across stone.

Newt jumped up, gesturing for everyone else to stay down and quiet, he went to the window, pulling Sonya with him.

The building began to shudder, in time with the sounds of the Grievers. They were climbing the walls, and it sounded like they were coming towards them.

Everyone got up, crept to the far wall, all looked terrified, some were crying.

The door to the hallway opened, and everyone turned to it, momentarily forgetting the Grievers. It was Gally.

Thomas heard a gasp and looked over to see Beth, who looked positively livid, any idea that she had been an accomplice of his evaporating.

"Gally what the shuck?" She whisper yelled at him, he didn't respond.

"You, It's all your fault!" Gally shouted, pointing at Thomas and his friends. He moved to hit Thomas but Beth grabbed him.

"Sit down and be quiet, or I'll throw you to the damn Grievers myself." She hissed, Gally shook her off.

"It can't be solved," he said, his voice now quiet and distant, spooky. "The shuck Maze'll kill all you shanks…. The Grievers'll kill you … a pair every night till it's over…. I … It's better this way…." His eyes fell to the floor. "They'll only kill you one a night … their stupid Variables …"

Newt took a step forward. "Gally, shut your bloody hole—there's a Griever right out the window. Just sit on your butt and be quiet—maybe it'll go away."

Gally looked up, his eyes narrowing. "You don't get it, Newt. You're too stupid—you've always been too stupid. There's no way out—there's no way to win! They're gonna kill you, all of you—one by one!"

Screaming the last word, Gally threw his body toward the window and started tearing at the wooden boards like a wild animal trying to escape a cage. Before Thomas or anyone else could react, he'd already ripped one board free; he threw it to the ground.

Newt and Sonya lunged forward, Gally wrenching the second board free, slamming it into the side of Newt's head. He fell onto the bed, there was a shower of blood.

The window exploded inward, Thomas was dimly aware that most of the Gladers had fled to the hallway. Sonya was checking Newt for a pulse, Beth had gone strangely, completely rigid.

The pulsating body of the Griever began to enter through the window, reaching for Newt. Sonya shrieked and hit it away.

"No one ever understood!" Gally screamed over the horrible noise of the creature, crunching its way deeper into the Homestead, ripping the wall to pieces. "No one ever understood what I saw, what the Changing did to me! Don't go back to the real world! You don't … want … to remember!"

The Griever's arms reached out, latching onto Beth, who did not resist. Gally yelled and tried to hit it away, attempting to free her, but this only allowed the creature to grab him as well. The monster seemed satisfied with its human trophies, clambering back out of the window and dropping to the floor of the Glade. Thomas ran to the window and stared, watching other Grievers click their arms in victory, following their apparent leader into the maze.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I have A-Levels and a lot of chores to do. Please read and review.**


	21. Chapter 21

Chaos ruled. From Miyoko's shouting over the noise so Sonya could hear her, Thomas learnt that Minho had run after the Grievers into the Maze to see if they took Gally and Beth to the Griever Hole, and that she hadn't even bothered to stop him because there wasn't a point.

Thomas stood in a corner, Rachel, Teresa, Aris, Chuck and Flo were gathered around him. Rachel was trying to comfort the younger two, Chuck turned to Thomas.

"Gally said there's no way out, no way home." His obvious terror made Thomas's heart ache.

"From what it sounds like I wouldn't trust anything that guy says. There wouldn't be a Maze if there wasn't a solution, and we'll find it." Aris spoke confidently, just loud enough for them all to hear.

"If any of us have a home left, we'll get there, I promise." Thomas vowed, and he meant it. He hated the Creators, for doing all of this to children so young, for taking their memories and their lives. He found himself wondering about the mysterious connection he felt to Teresa, Rachel and Aris, they must have been close, Thomas just wished he knew how close. The impulsive feeling that told him he could trust Aris and Teresa was just as strong as it had been with Rachel at the beginning.

"The bloody hell is that?" Thomas looked up to see Newt enter the room, a hastily placed bandage on his head, being supported by Sonya. Minho had just entered, breathing hard.

"I was right," he panted, "the Griever Hole."

"That's great," Harriet looked like her last nerve was about to snap. "Now go see why the Map Room is on shucking fire."

Somehow only then did Thomas notice the smoke.

All the map trunks had been burnt, destroying years of the runners' work, not that Thomas thought they had been worth all that much.

"Only a pair a night, trials and variables." Rachel mused. There was something there, Thomas knew, they just had to figure out what.

 _Let's make this telepathic._  Thomas told them, they probably wouldn't be heard over the noise but he wasn't taking the chance.

 _The Maze is a code, but what for and how?_  Teresa continued, that was the main problem.

 _The walls move every night, so there's probably a pattern, and the code thing was important enough that we had to say it right after waking up. When all our memories started getting sucked away._  Aris was right, it had to be important, probably vital.

 _They always compare each section's Map to the one from the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that, day by day, just analyzing single sections. What if they're supposed to compare the Maps to other sections …_  Thomas trailed off, his mind was on the brink of a breakthrough, he could tell, but what was it?

 _The first thing the word code makes me think of is letters. Letters in the alphabet. Maybe the Maze is trying to spell something._  Rachel looked at Thomas, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

Then it clicked, audibly clicked. A code. Letters. Analyzing the sections.

"The patterns repeat, but they don't know what it means, because they've been analyzing single sections. It must make a letter a day." A word was too much, having seen the maps.

"So the maps are the code, and they've been studying them wrong." Aris picked up Thomas's line of thought. "Too bad they've all been burnt to a crisp."

That hit Thomas like a ton of bricks falling on his head. Any code there might have been was gone. They'd never find the way out, with no supplies or sunlight there would be no time to recreate the maps.

He ran over to the map room, not bothering to see if anyone followed. Thomas hoped at least some of the maps could have survived, but guessing closer there was no hope, everything had been burnt black. Alby lay flat on his back, an ugly gash on his forehead. Harriet was supporting his head and cleaning the injury whilst Newt whispered questions, still being held up by Sonya. Thomas's respect for the two girls increased tenfold.

But then he thought of his friends, their discovery meant nothing, if only they could have figured it out last night.

"Harriet." Thomas got her attention, she glared at him.

"What, shank, best be important."

Thomas looked around, finding Minho picking through some ash, he called out to him.

"We've got something. It might work if enough runners remember their maps."

"You and your weird lot?" Sonya's question wasn't cruel, it gave Thomas perspective on how others viewed them here.

"The maps, we think they might be - might have been - a code. Can you come talk to us, somewhere quieter." There were a lot of Gladers milling around. Harriet eased herself off the ground and shouted for someone to go find Clint.

She told Minho to go find Miyoko, Sonya and Newt to follow her. They made their way back to the Homestead meeting back up with Rachel, Teresa and Aris, who were sat cross-legged on the floor. Teresa combing her hair.

"Quit beautifyin' yourself and tell us what this is about a code." Newt swatted at Teresa's hand.

"It clicked, when we woke up, when all our memories seemed like they were being sucked away with a vacuum. So we told them." Aris gestured to Rachel and Thomas. "Then we were just discussing the maps and Thomas figured it out." Thomas interpreted this as meaning that he should continue.

"You study the maps by comparing the maps for one section to the one before, we thought that if you compared the maps for each day to each other, they could make letters. A code." He finished, all five veterans were staring at him.

"Good shucking luck we hid those maps then." Miyoko broke the silence, "come on." She beckoned for Thomas and Rachel to follow her.

The maps had been hidden in a secret closet in the back of the weapons room, all of them, intact. They could find the code.

Thomas placed the maps from the day before together in a pile, the paper was far too thick for them to see anything.

"Wax paper." Rachel was bent over his shoulder, "you've got to have some of that in your kitchen."

They did, plenty, even if they did have to explain to Jane and Frypan what it was for before they relinquished it. Aris and Rachel had been collecting writing materials, and knives when they found there were no scissors.

Harriet left to go and try and fix the chaos, Sonya went with her, telling them she'd send help if they needed it.

They got to work, Minho, Newt and Miyoko cutting rectangles, Rachel and Aris copying the maps onto them, then finally Thomas and Teresa were putting them together.

"That's one day." Rachel put a finished copy in Thomas's hand and he placed it on top of the pile on the table, studying the overlapping lines.

 _See anything?_  Teresa's voice in his head, Thomas wished he knew how it worked, but he knew they had to do their best to make sure no one else found out.

 _Let's not do this when there's others around._  He sent the message to all of them, but received no replies, they'd got the point.

Thomas stared at it, and after a moment he could see an F in the centre of the lines, he pointed it out to everyone else.

"Shuck me, there really is a code." Newt whispered as if he was half in a dream.

"So we need to do all of these?" Miyoko asked, Thomas nodded.

"All of them, find the rest of the code."

They worked feverishly, like a production line, Thomas could see black lines when he closed his eyes.

"Alright, I can't be the only one whose vision is going crazy." Teresa put down her paper and marker, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"By no means." Aris was collecting days, piling them up, then passing them on to Rachel.

"F...L...O...A...T…Float. That's the first word." She put the piles together, placed them in order in the middle of the table. The letters visible.

The next word was 'catch', but there were still two years of maps to go through.

"Miyoko, Thomas, Rachel. We need to go running, no way we can skip a day now." Thomas wanted to argue but Minho was talking sense, if anything had changed, really changed. It would have happened today.

"I'll get some trustworthy shanks to come help." Newt looked deep in thought for a moment. "And take Sonya with you, she used to be the best runner."


	22. Chapter 22

They wandered the Glade collecting all the other Runners, and Sonya, Harriet was reluctant to let her go, because she would then have to deal with the whole Glade on her own.

The plan Minho told the gathered Runners was quite simple: they would pack their supplies as full as they could and stay out overnight. Thomas and Rachel would be staying with Minho and Miyoko, the other sections going to more experienced Runners. Sonya would be taking a section on her own, one pair having staunchly refused to re-enter the Maze after the night before.

 

Chuck came to say goodbye to them just before they left.

“Wish you luck.” He sounded far too jovial for the circumstances.

“Don’t forget, I’ll get you home, promise.” Thomas reminded him, meaning every word. Chuck gave him a thumbs up, eyes glistening.

 

They didn’t stop running until they were at least halfway to the end of Section 8, the walls hadn’t moved, for the first day since the first group of Gladers had been dumped here.

_ They really want to end this experiment _ . Thomas thought to Rachel.

_ Yes, but how do we get out _ . He didn’t want to have to think about that, but he had to.

 

In the third hour, Teresa surprised him, speaking in his mind from back in the Glade, it was a message that was audible to all of them.   
_ We’re making progress—found a couple more words already. But none of it makes sense yet _ .

_ Do you wonder why we can do this? _ The question had already been considered but Thomas’s curiosity in that moment demanded answers.

_ Maybe we were lovers? _ Teresa’s words shocked Thomas to the core, he knew they were meant for him. He tripped in a crack of the floor and fell, crashing to the ground.

There was Rachel’s laughter in his ears as she helped him up, and Aris and Teresa’s in his mind. They had all heard it.

 

_ Mean trick _ . Thomas grumbled, hoping they couldn’t hear the shock in his voice, or the curiosity the question had brought. They couldn’t exactly rule it out. He certainly felt the strongest connection to Teresa. 

_ Bye for now _ . Before Thomas could reply he felt the two presences he had unconsciously recognised as Teresa and Aris wink out of existence in his mind.

 

As the day continued and became night they found nothing. Once a Griever ran straight past them, not stopping or taking any notice. For a few moments Thomas was paralysed with fear, but quickly recovered.

“They’re playing with us.” Minho said, nothing had changed, and the Grievers were acting strangely. There was nothing to find but the code.

 

In the early morning they returned to the Glade, wondering who had been taken, what the code was, and most of all: what came next?

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, it is the Easter holidays but I have a lot of homework and revision to do. I will try to keep updating as normal.**


	23. Chapter 23

They returned mid-morning, having been in the Maze a full twenty-four hours. They were greeted by a healed Newt and a tired Sonya.

“Nothing’s changed has it?” There was no need to answer her question. Minho only nodded.

“It’s all a joke, a big freaking joke.” Miyoko seemed pissed off.

“We’re gonna go see about the code.” Rachel grabbed Thomas’s arm and pulled him towards the Homestead. Despite his tiredness, seeing what Teresa and Aris had found, seeing Teresa and Aris in general, sounded almost as good as an undisturbed nap.

 

Newt and Minho followed Thomas and Rachel into the basement. Miyoko and Sonya had left to go talk to Harriet. There were a few Gladers present, but none Thomas recognised, all of which began to clear out at Newt’s direction.

“Float. Catch. Bleed. Death. Stiff. Push.” Aris set up the piles that each made a letter on the table and clear areas of floor. It looked like the room had been hit by a concentrated paper tornado.

“Then it goes a week with nothing and starts over again with Float.” Teresa stepped back, stretching and yawning.

 

“We’ve no clue what it means, but we know it’s right.” Newt explained, leaning against a stack of papers that went almost to the ceiling. It looked as if the coders hadn’t slept all night either.

“We should go take a nap.” Rachel suggested, Thomas adored her in that moment, even more when Newt nodded agreement. “You four go and rest up, we can have another lovely party with the Grievers tonight.”

 

The other Gladers still avoided them, which was highly convenient. They took quick showers, found fresh clothes, found some blankets and curled up on some soft moss near the woods. Today Thomas was sandwiched between Teresa and Aris, Rachel was asleep instantly, and Aris after a few moments. Teresa put her head on Thomas’s shoulder, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. His three friends slept, but Thomas couldn’t. 

 

Because he had figured out what he had to do, to get them out.

Thomas, Teresa, Rachel, Aris. Their memories were so obviously the most valuable resource available to the Gladers, and the only way to regain memories was to be Stung. Thomas couldn’t ask them to risk that danger, even though he somehow knew they would do it. He had to do it himself, and he couldn’t tell them his plan.

 

That night, he would replace whatever poor boy the Grievers targeted, hopefully save the girl too, get Stung, go through the Changing, restore his memories. It was the only way.

* * *

 

Despite having slept for a good four hours, Thomas was still tired when they went to the Homestead. The sleeping areas were rotated, so they were with those they had been with the night Gally and Beth were taken. Thomas found himself considering Gally’s mania, and how his only clarity had come when a Griever targeted Beth, who had been his best and only friend. 

 

The bond between those who entered the Glade together was something incredible, Thomas knew that just from his own with Rachel, and watching others. How Minho and Miyoko ran like one person with two bodies, in his ventures to the kitchen he had seen Frypan and Jane working so in sync he could have sworn they were also telepathic. 

 

Those that had lost their partners seemed to have something missing, there was a girl called Mary who Thomas had noticed as strange early on. Chuck had told him that her partner, George, had been the first Glader to die, mad from a Griever sting, before the Grief Serum was available. She had watched Alby kill him, to protect the other Gladers, and from then on had isolated herself completely.

Despite the short time he had known her, Thomas couldn’t imagine being without Rachel. Something tugged at his chest when he realised that his plan might leave her without him, but she would have Aris and Teresa, so she wouldn’t be entirely alone.

 

They slept like they had before, close enough together in the cramped space that they only needed one-and-a-half blankets to cover all four of them, heads resting on another that was rolled up. It occurred to Thomas how strange this was, to curl up and sleep with two girls and a boy that he hardly knew, but that doing so was as natural as breathing.

 

This night there was no telepathy, they knew what was coming, but having slept most of the day it was hard to now. Thomas’s plan echoed in his mind and he was filled with fear and resolve in equal measures.

After a time that was both too long and too short, the sounds of the Grievers came, everyone huddled by the far wall.

Explosions and screams from above told Thomas that the Grievers were attacking a higher floor. The relief in the room was palpable, as everyone relaxed Thomas ran out the door, dimly aware of his three friends screaming after him. That only hardened his already concrete resolve, even if this killed him, it would save them. Save Teresa, Rachel, Aris, Chuck, Newt, Sonya, Minho, Harriet. Save everyone.

 

Thomas jumped on the Griever carrying the prisoner, a boy he didn’t know, whose partner must be dead, or she would have been taken too.

The creature’s retaliation was immediate, small stabs of pain covered Thomas’s body.

He had succeeded. Thomas fought against the Griever’s pull and it freed him surprisingly easily, he sprinted back to the Glade, had to reach it before the pain spreading through every part of his body overwhelmed him.

 

It was Teresa who caught Thomas when he fell, as soon as he came back through the Doors where a small crowd had gathered. Rachel and Aris were there too, helping her. They were berating him, both out loud and telepathically for  _ being so goddamn stupid _ Thomas thought that was Rachel, but his mind was fading and he couldn’t be sure.

 

Miyoko was shouting for someone to get the Medis and Grief Serum, for him to be carried back to the Homestead.

He was taken into the building, laid on a bed, injected with the Serum. One of the Medis said something about him being Stung dozens of times.

Warmth spread from where Thomas had been injected, and the last thing he was aware of was a girl’s hand holding his.

 

Then the darkness took him.


	24. Chapter 24

Thomas had no concept of time as he went through the changing, he tried to reach out telepathically, to Teresa, Rachel, Aris, but felt nothing. He was trapped and isolated inside his own mind.

 

After an interminable amount of time in a black vacuum, things began to change. Memories filled Thomas’s thoughts, and everything else turned to pain.

* * *

 

After an immeasurable amount of time, Thomas awoke, filled with despair. The Maze couldn’t be solved, and the only way out was something they would never have thought of, something horrifying.

 

“Are you awake? Because if you are Rachel is going to kill you.” Finally opening his eyes Thomas recognised Aris, who was leaning against the wall and looked incredibly bored.

“Yeah, I am.” Thomas’s voice was rough with disuse. “How long was I out?”

“Three days, they thought you were dead a few times. Rachel and Teresa will be here in a minute.” Three days, six more Gladers taken and killed by the Grievers. 

Rachel, Teresa, Aris, the things that the four of them had done.

 

Chuck put his head around the door, and Thomas was filled with relief that his friend hadn’t been taken. The boy’s face lit up when he saw Thomas, he must have heard him and Aris talking.

“He’s awake, Thomas is awake!” Chuck began shouting.

“Not so loud, you’ll wake the Grievers. Run along and tell Newt and Harriet.” Teresa patted Chuck’s head and he ran off, still shouting.

 

Thomas was happy to see his friends, unharmed and smiling, or he was until he saw the look on Rachel’s face. Aris hadn’t been lying.

“If you do anything that stupid ever again I will strangle you.” She said with a disturbingly sweet smile, pinching Thomas’s arm hard enough that the skin almost broke.

“Oww.” Thomas moaned, rubbing at the injury, he was reminded of how she had slapped him when he returned from the Maze.

 

Newt and Harriet were taking their time to appear, so Thomas got a rundown of everything that had happened. Several Gladers had been taken, including Zart and Charlotte, but no one too important. Thomas had been put in the Slammer at night but kept in the Homestead during the day, the three of them taking shifts to watch him. The Maze had been scoured but no purpose for the code had been found.

 

“We need to have a Gathering immediately, I think I’ve figured it out, I need to tell the Keepers before I forget anything.” Thomas told them.

“Tell us now, between us we must be able to remember it all.” Teresa smiled.

“No, I don’t have the energy to say it all twice, I’ll ask for them to let you in.”

 

Newt and Harriet arrived after maybe half an hour, apologising that they had had to settle several fistfights, everyone was so scared that it was manifesting somewhat explosively.

“You need to get all the Keepers, have a Gathering, I know the way out.”

Harriet sent Rachel and Aris to go round up the Keepers, leaving herself to go and get Alby, Newt followed her. Within a couple of minutes Thomas was left with Teresa.

_ I pretty much hated you the last couple of days, you should have seen yourself. _

_ You hated me?  _ Thomas was elated she had cared so much, it was Rachel who had seemed angriest.

_ That’s just my way of saying I would’ve killed you if you died. So, how much do you remember? _

_ Enough, _ Thomas replied, struggling with the words, somehow he was still exhausted.  _ It was us, we did all this _ . They had theorised it before, and now Thomas knew it for certain. Ben and Rosa attacking himself and Rachel, Gally’s irrational hatred, it all made sense now.

* * *

 

An hour later Thomas sat in front of all the remaining Keepers. Teresa, Rachel and Aris hadn’t been allowed to enter, so had told him they would be waiting in the woods so he could tell them what was decided. The four empty chairs in the circle reminded Thomas of the stakes if he failed.

 

The Gathering was much calmer than the last Thomas had attended, everyone kept quiet whilst he explained what he had seen. How the maze was only a Trial, to find out who among them were the best, that the Creators wanted the survivors to do something important. How they had been taken from their families when very young, because things had changed in the world and they were smart, different. How they had been raised in special schools until the Maze was built and they were old enough to be sent in.

 

“These aren’t even our real names, they just named us after famous people, scientists and that. Thomas Edison, Isaac Newton, Mother Teresa, Aristotle.” Thomas had figured out several of their names but some, such as Rachel and Sonya, were still unclear to him.

Alby looked like he’d been slapped in the face. “Our names … these ain’t even our real names?”   
  
Thomas shook his head. “As far as I can tell, we’ll probably never know what our names were.”   
“What are you saying?” Frypan asked. “That we’re freakin’ orphans raised by scientists?”   
  
  
“Yes,” Thomas said, hoping his expression didn’t give away just how depressed he felt. “Supposedly we’re really smart and they’re studying every move we make, analyzing us. Seeing who’d give up and who wouldn’t. Seeing who’d survive it all. No wonder we have so many beetle blade spies running around this place. Plus, some of us have had things … altered in our brains.”   
  
“I believe this klunk about as much as I believe Frypan’s food is good for you,” Winston grumbled, looking tired and indifferent.   
“Why would I make this up?” Thomas said, his voice rising. He’d gotten stung on purpose to remember these things! “Better yet, what do you think is the explanation? That we live on an alien planet?”   
  
“Just keep talking,” Alby said. “But I don’t get why none of us remembered this stuff. I’ve been through the Changing, but everything I saw was …” He looked around quickly, like he’d just said something he shouldn’t have. “I didn’t learn nothin’.”   
  
“I’ll tell you in a minute why I think I learned more than others,” Thomas said, dreading that part of the story. “Should I keep going or not?”   
“Talk,” Harriet commanded.   
  
Thomas sucked in a big breath, as if he were about to start a race. “Okay, somehow they wiped our memories—not just our childhood, but all the stuff leading up to entering the Maze. They put us in the Box and sent us up here—a big group to start and then one a month over the last two years.”   
  
“We  _ know  _ that. What’s your bloody point?” Sonya looked irritated.   
Thomas held up a hand for silence. “I’m getting there. Like I said, they wanted to test us, see how we’d react to what they call the Variables, and to a problem that has no solution. See if we could work together—build a community, even. Everything was provided for us, and the problem was laid out as one of the most common puzzles known to civilization—a maze. All this added up to making us think there had to be a solution, just encouraging us to work all the harder while at the same time magnifying our discouragement at not finding one.” He paused to look around, making sure they were all listening. “What I’m saying is, there is no solution.”   
  
Chatter broke out, questions overlapping each other.   
Thomas held his hands up again, wishing he could just zap his thoughts into everyone else’s brains. “See? Your reaction proves my point. Most people would’ve given up by now. But I think we’re different. We couldn’t accept that a problem can’t be solved—especially when it’s something as simple as a maze. And we’ve kept fighting no matter how hopeless it’s gotten.”   
  
Thomas realized his voice had steadily risen as he spoke, and he felt heat in his face. “Whatever the reason, it makes me sick! All of this—the Grievers, the walls moving, the Cliff—they’re just elements of a stupid test. We’re being used and manipulated. The Creators wanted to keep our minds working toward a solution that was never there. Same thing goes for Teresa and Aris being sent here, being used to trigger the Ending—whatever that means—the place being shut down, gray skies, on and on and on. They’re throwing crazy things at us to see our response, test our will. See if we’ll turn on each other. In the end, they want the survivors for something important.”   
  
Frypan stood up. “And killing people? That’s a nice little part of their plan?”   
Thomas felt a moment of fear, worried that the Keepers might take out their anger on him for knowing so much. And it was only about to get worse. “Yes, Frypan, killing people. The only reason the Grievers are doing it one by one is so we don’t all die before it ends the way it’s supposed to. Survival of the fittest. Only the best of us will escape.”   
  
Frypan kicked his chair. “Well, you better start talking about this magical escape, then!”   
“He will,” Newt said, quietly. “Shut up and listen.”   
Minho, who’d been mostly silent the whole time, cleared his throat. “Something tells me I’m not gonna like what I’m about to hear.”   
  
“Probably not,” Thomas said. He closed his eyes for a second and folded his arms. The next few minutes were going to be crucial. “The Creators want the best of us for whatever it is they have planned. But we have to earn it.” The room fell completely silent, every eye on him. “The code.”   
  
“The code?” Jane repeated, her voice lighting up with a trace of hope. “What about it?” Frypan had fallen silent.   
Thomas looked at him, paused for effect. “It was hidden in the wall movements of the Maze for a reason. I should know—I was there when the Creators did it.”   
  
For a long moment, no one said anything, and all Thomas saw were blank faces. He felt the sweat beading on his forehead, slicking his hands; he was terrified to keep going.   
  
Newt looked completely baffled and finally broke the silence. “What are you talking about?”   
“Well, first there’s something I have to share. About me, Rachel, Aris, Teresa. There’s a reason Gally accused us of so much stuff, and why everyone who’s gone through the Changing recognizes us.”

  
He expected questions—an eruption of voices—but the room was dead silent.   
“We are … different,” he continued. “We were part of the Maze Trials from the very beginning—but against our will, I swear it.”   
Miyoko was the one to speak up now. “Thomas, what’re you talking about?”   
  
“We were used by the Creators. If you had your full memories back, you’d probably want to kill us. But I had to tell you this myself to show you we can be trusted now. So you’ll believe me when I tell you the only way we can get out of here.”   
  
Thomas quickly scanned the faces of the Keepers, wondering one last time if he should say it, if they would understand. But he knew he had to. He had to.   
Thomas took a deep breath, then said it. “We helped design the Maze. We helped create the whole thing.”   
Everyone seemed too stunned to respond. Blank faces stared back at him once again. Thomas figured they either didn’t understand or didn’t believe him.   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sonya finally asked. “You’re a bloody sixteen-year-old. How could you have created the Maze?”   
Thomas couldn’t help doubting it a little himself—but he knew what he’d remembered. As crazy as it was, he knew it for the truth. “We were … smart. And I think it might be part of the Variables. But most importantly, we have a … gift that made us very valuable as they designed and built this place.” He stopped, knowing it must all sound absurd.   
  
“Speak!” Newt yelled. “Spit it out!”   
“We’re telepathic! We can talk to each other in our freaking heads!” Saying it out loud almost made Thomas feel ashamed, as if he’d just admitted he was a thief.   
Newt blinked in surprise; someone coughed.   
  
“But listen to me,” Thomas continued, in a hurry to defend himself. “They forced us to help. I don’t know how or why, but they did.” He paused. “Maybe it was to see if we could gain your trust despite having been a part of them. Maybe we were meant all along to be the ones to reveal how to escape. Whatever the reason, with your Maps we figured out the code and we need to use it now.”   
  
Thomas looked around, and surprisingly, astonishingly, no one seemed angry. Most of the Gladers continued to stare blankly at him or shook their heads in wonder or disbelief. And for some odd reason, Minho was smiling.   
  
“It’s true, and I’m sorry,” Thomas continued. “But I can tell you this—I’m in the same boat with you now. We were sent here just like anyone else, and we can die just as easily. But the Creators have seen enough—it’s time for the final test. I guess I needed the Changing to add the final pieces of the puzzle. Anyway, I wanted you to know the truth, to know there’s a chance we can do this.”   
  
Newt shook his head back and forth, staring at the ground. Then he looked up, took in the other Keepers. “The Creators—those shanks did this to us, not Tommy, Rachel, Aris and Teresa. The Creators. And they’ll be sorry.”   
“Whatever,” Minho said, “who gives a klunk about all that—just get on with the escape already.”   
  
A lump formed in Thomas’s throat. He was so relieved he almost couldn’t speak. He’d been sure they’d put him under major heat for his confession, if not throw him off the Cliff. The rest of what he had to say almost seemed easy now. “There’s a computer station in a place we’ve never looked before. The code will open a door for us to get out of the Maze. It also shuts down the Grievers so they can’t follow us—if we can just survive long enough to get to that point.”   
  
“A place we’ve never looked before?” Alby asked. “What do you think we’ve been doing for two years?”   
“Trust me, you’ve never been to this spot.”   
Minho stood up. “Well, where is it?”   
“It’s almost suicide,” Thomas said, knowing he was putting off the answer. “The Grievers will come after us whenever we try to do it. All of them. The final test.” He wanted to make sure they understood the stakes. The odds of everyone surviving were slim.   
“So where is it?” Harriet asked, leaning forward in her chair.   
“Over the Cliff,” Thomas answered. “We have to go through the Griever Hole.”


	25. Chapter 25

Alby stood up so quickly his chair fell over backwards. Thomas thought the leader might have charged him if Harriet hadn't jumped up lightning-fast, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him back. He didn't struggle.

"Sit down, or I'll put you in time out." Harriet dragged Alby back to his chair, righted it, and pushed him into it. Thomas resolved from now that he would never cross Harriet, he was surprised he had only consciously concluded this now.

"Now you're being a shuck idiot," Alby said, glaring at Thomas. "Or a traitor. How can we trust a word you say if you helped design this place, put us here! We can't handle one Griever on our own ground, much less fight a whole horde of them in their little hole. What are you really up to?" Harriet sighed, and Thomas was reminded of Beth and Gally in the first Gathering he had attended.

Thomas was furious. "What am I up to? Nothing! Why would I make all this up?"  
Alby's arms stiffened, fists clenched, Harriet glared at hard enough to melt metal. "For all we know you were sent here to get us all killed. Why should we trust you?"  
Thomas stared, incredulous. "Alby, do you have a short-term memory problem? I risked my life to save you out in the Maze—you'd be dead if it wasn't for me!"

"Maybe that was a trick to gain our trust. If you're in league with the shucks who sent us here, you wouldn't have had to worry about the Grievers hurting you—maybe it was all an act."

"Come on." Harriet stood and pulled Alby up with her. "We'll be back in a minute, no one do anything." She dragged Alby through the door and slammed it, there was the sound of muffled shouting. No one spoke for few moments so Thomas telepathically relayed the events so far to Aris, Rachel and Teresa.

After perhaps five minutes Harriet came back in with Alby, who looked cowed.

"Now does anyone else have anything to say?" Harriet asked, trying and failing to look approachable.

"I think we can't trust any of these shanks, they did this to us, who says they aren't spies. Maybe Gally was right." This came from a girl Thomas did not yet know, but he thought she was the Keeper of the Baggers.

"Don't you start Alejandra, you already told us all of this and until we have any proof they're just like the rest of us. The people we were before the Maze are dead, what they did doesn't matter, what matters is what we do now." Thomas almost wanted to applaud Sonya, but settled for a grateful smile that she quickly returned.

"We can't go back!" Alby suddenly yelled, turning to look at everyone in the room. "I've seen what our lives were like—we can't go back!"  
"Is that what this is about?" Newt asked. "Are you kidding?"

Alby turned on him, fiercely, even held up a clenched fist. But he stopped, lowered his arm, then went over and sank into his chair, put his face in his hands, and broke down. Thomas couldn't have been more surprised. The fearless leader of the Gladers was crying. Harriet scooched her chair to be next to his and hugged him, he cried on her shoulder like a child.

"Alby, talk to us," Newt pressed, not willing to let it drop. "What's going on?"  
"I did it," Alby said through a racking sob. "I did it."  
"Did what?" Newt asked. He looked as confused as Thomas felt.  
Alby looked up, his eyes wet with tears. "I burned the Maps. I did it. I slammed my head on the table so you'd think it was someone else, I lied, burned it all. I did it!"

"Calm down," Harriet soothed, "we saved the Maps, we can still get out."

"I'm telling you." Alby sounded like he was begging—near hysterical. "We can't go back to where we came from. I've seen it, remembered awful, awful things. Burned land, a disease—something called the Flare. It was horrible—way worse than we have it here."

"If we stay here, we'll all die!" Minho yelled. "It's worse than that?"  
Alby stared at Minho a long time before answering. Thomas could only think of the words he'd just said. The Flare. Something about it was familiar, right on the edge of his mind. But he was certain he hadn't remembered anything about that when he'd gone through the Changing.

"Yes," Alby finally said. "It's worse. Better to die than go home."  
Minho snickered and leaned back in his chair. "Man, you are one butt-load of sunshine, let me tell you. I'm with Thomas. I'm with Thomas one hundred percent. If we're gonna die, let's freakin' do it fighting."

"Inside the Maze or out of it," Thomas added, relieved that Minho was firmly on his side. He turned to Alby then, and looked at him gravely. "We still live inside the world you remembered."

Alby stood again, his face showing his defeat. "Do what you want." He sighed. "Doesn't matter. We'll die no matter what." And with that, he walked to the door and left the room. Harriet shot Newt a look full of meaning Thomas couldn't decipher before chasing after him.

The Keepers all began to argue, Minho, Newt, Miyoko and Sonya were all with Thomas and his friends. Some, like Winston and Frypan, were not against the idea but terrified of it. Alejandra was vehemently against, repeating that she did not trust them Thomas and Rachel in particular, some agreed with her but Leo, her partner, was trying to make her 'see reason'.

"SHUT IT!" Sonya screamed when this had gone on for a few minutes. "Alejandra, you keep your mouth shut now, I think martians heard your opinion."

"I'm going for it, sounds like Minho's in too," Thomas was ninety nine percent sure Miyoko would follow him. "Rachel, Teresa and Aris will come with me." He knew, deeply knew, that even if they thought it suicide they wouldn't let him go alone. Momentarily Thomas wondered how he subconsciously knew so much about them, and they about him.

"I don't think they'll sting us—the Changing was a Variable meant for us while we lived here. But that part will be over. Plus, we might have one thing going for us."  
"Yeah?" Newt asked, rolling his eyes. "Can't wait to hear it."

"It doesn't do the Creators any good if we all die—this thing is meant to be hard, not impossible. I think we finally know for sure that the Grievers are programmed to only kill one of us each day. So somebody can sacrifice himself to save the others while we run to the Hole. I think this might be how it's supposed to happen."

The room went silent until the Blood House Keeper barked a loud laugh. "Excuse me?" Winston asked. "So your suggestion is that we throw some poor kid to the wolves so the rest of us can escape? This is your brilliant suggestion?"

Thomas refused to admit how bad that sounded, but an idea hit him. "Yes, Winston, I'm glad you're so good at paying attention." He ignored the glare that got him. "And it seems obvious who the poor kid should be."  
"Oh, yeah?" Winston asked. "Who?"  
Thomas folded his arms. "Me."

The room burst into screaming chaos once again. Newt stood, pulling Thomas from his chair and to the door.

"Go sit all cosy with your friends till I come find you. If you see Harriet send her back in here."

* * *

**A/N: I am fully aware that _a lot_  of the last two chapters have been lifted from the book. It seemed to be the best method.**


	26. Chapter 26

Thomas set off across the Glade, mind reeling, the look on Newt's face had said he believed him. He had the Seconds on his side, but how many others would follow them?

Thomas saw Harriet wandering back towards the Homestead, so he figured he didn't need to tell her that she was needed back in the Gathering. Not knowing quite where to find his friends he found himself sat on the bench by the Box, considering it all.

Could he really sacrifice himself? In a way he had already done it once. Would it really save everyone if he gave himself to the monsters.

 _Where are you?_  Teresa, was it ever going to become less creepy that three people could force their voices into his head as they pleased? Although Thomas did suppose that he could do it to them too.

 _By the Box._  Thomas broadcast the message widely, Aris and Rachel would also hear it.

_We'll be there in a minute._

Thomas realized how badly he needed their company.  _Good. I'll tell you the plan; I think it's on._

 _What is it?_  This was Rachel. _If it's anything as stupid as your previous plans…_  This was followed by a vague threat to his potential reproductive capabilities. Thomas couldn't help but laugh.

 _I hope you're not talking to me_. Aris was obviously joking, Thomas wasn't sure what to think about the fact that it was at his expense.

_It depends._

_Don't mess with Rachel, that's some of the best advice I can give you here._  Thomas stopped, thinking of Harriet and Beth specifically. _In fact, just don't mess with girls period._

_That I know._

Thomas leaned back on the bench and put his right foot up on his knee, wondering how they would react to what he was going to say. The jokes had slightly improved his black mood.

_We gotta go through the Griever Hole. Use that code to shut the Grievers down and open a door out of here._

_I figured it was something like that._  Teresa.  
 _You have got to be shucking kidding me._  Rachel.  
 _Please tell me you're kidding._  Aris.  
Teresa seemed calmest, that pleased Thomas for several reasons he didn't quite understand.

 _Got any better ideas?_  Thomas really hoped that one of them did.  
 _No. It's gonna be awful_. Teresa replied.  
 _But we can do it._  Rachel again,  _we will do it, there won't be another way._

It was quiet for a few moments, meaning that Thomas was left alone with his thoughts, something he did not want to be right now.

"Penny for them." Thomas understood Teresa's phrase, but of course had no idea how. She sat down next to him, close enough to touch. Aris and Rachel joined them. The bench was tight with the four of them, but after the corners they had been sleeping in recently it was downright spacious.

Teresa took Thomas's hand, squeezed it and he squeezed back.

"Tell us." She instructed gently, and this time Thomas did. Reciting every word he had told the Keepers, and their reactions, especially Alby's.

"They might decide to go tonight. It doesn't sound so good now." It especially terrified Thomas to think about Chuck and Teresa out there—he'd faced the Grievers down already and knew all too well what it was like. He wanted to be able to protect his friends from the horrible experience, but he knew he couldn't.

"I'm scared." Rachel sounded much smaller and younger than the girl Thomas knew. The one who could terrify him and stare down any of the Keepers. Aris put an arm around her shoulders and she leant into the touch. Thomas was terrified, likely even more than she was, facing those beasts, again. It was too much to think about, so Thomas stopped thinking about it.

"Me too." Thomas said quietly, just loud enough for them all to hear him.

"We should be scared." Teresa took Thomas's hand again, reaching out to Aris with the other.

They stayed there, holding hands and huddled together, for a long time. Silent, but peaceful. Thomas hated the overwhelming awareness that this might be his last moment of happiness in a long time.


	27. Chapter 27

The Gathering ended a while later, all the Keepers subdued as they went off to persuade their groups.

Newt and Sonya came over to them, a hint of victory in both their eyes.

“They all agreed to go, but some other shanks are gonna try their chances here.” Newt told them, Thomas was elated, now their plan just had to work.

“Alby?” He asked, the leader was one of the most important people to have on their side. Thomas was quite sure Harriet would follow them, but if he wouldn’t go far more people would have doubts.

“Harriet said she’ll make sure of it, drag him by the ear if she has to.” Sonya smiled, but there was no joy in it. Any other time the image would have been funny, but now it was just another source of apprehension.

“Anywhere’s better than this place.” Aris still had an arm around Rachel but they both looked determined, Thomas became aware that at some point he had let go of Teresa’s hand.

Arguments were breaking out across the Glade, the Keepers trying to convince people, some shook their heads and left, but most seemed to at least consider.

“So what’s next?” Rachel asked, all her fear from before had evaporated, Thomas didn’t want to be any Griever that was in her way.  
  
Newt took a deep breath. “Figure out who’s going, who’s staying. Get ready. Food, weapons, all that. Then we go. Thomas, I’d put you in charge since it was your idea, but it’s going to be hard enough to get people on our side without making the Greenie our leader—no offense. So just lay low, okay? We’ll leave the code business to you four—you can handle that from the background.”  
  
Thomas was more than fine with lying low—finding that computer station and punching in the code was more than enough responsibility for him. Even with that much on his shoulders he had to fight the rising flood of panic he felt. “You sure make it sound easy,” he finally said, trying his best to lighten up the situation. Or at least sound like he was.  
  
Newt folded his arms again, looked at him closely. “Like you said—stay here, one shank’ll die tonight. Go, one shank’ll die. What’s the difference?” He pointed at Thomas. “If you’re right.”

Thomas knew he was right, this was the only way to escape. He just wished that he could keep his friends alive.

The next few hours were frantic.  
  
Most of the Gladers ended up agreeing to go—even more than Thomas would’ve guessed. Even Alby decided to make the run, after a ‘long talk’ with Harriet behind the Homestead. Though no one admitted it, Thomas bet most of them were banking on the theory that only one person would be killed by the Grievers, and they figured their chances of not being the unlucky sap were decent.

Those who decided to stay in the Glade were few but adamant and loud. They mainly walked around sulking, trying to tell others how stupid they were. Eventually, they gave up and kept their distance.  
  
As for Thomas and the rest of those committed to the escape, there was a ton of work to be done.  
  
Backpacks were handed out and stuffed full of supplies. Food, water, bandages, spare weapons. The Medis even took Grief Serum, the four of them working like a well-oiled machine, Thomas doubted they would need it but the stuff could have other uses.   
  
Minho and Miyoko went to the Cliff, taking ivy ropes and rocks to test the invisible Griever Hole one last time. They planned to set up guidelines so no one missed the Hole and tumbled into the abyss. Thomas wished no one had mentioned that possibility.

They had to hope the creatures would keep to their normal schedule and not come out during daytime hours. They waited until night, and as it got darker people became fidgety, more panicked.

The Runners came back safe and sound, lightening the mood slightly.

Thomas helped Newt distribute the weapons, and even more innovative ones were created in their desperation to be prepared for the Grievers. Wooden poles were carved into spears or wrapped in barbwire; the knives were sharpened and fastened with twine to the ends of sturdy branches hacked from trees in the woods; chunks of broken glass were duct-taped to shovels. By the end of the day, the Gladers had turned into a small army. A very pathetic, ill-prepared army, Thomas thought, but an army all the same.

After they were done helping, only waiting for night to fall, Thomas collected Rachel, Teresa and Aris and took them behind the Deadheads to strategise.

“We have to be the ones to do it,” Thomas said as they leaned their backs against craggy trees, the once-green leaves already starting to turn gray from the lack of artificial sunlight. “That way if we get separated, we can be in contact and still help each other.”  
  
Teresa had grabbed a stick and was peeling off the bark. “But we need backup in case something happens to us.”

“We’ll do that.” Rachel spoke up for the first time in a while, Thomas was incredibly grateful towards his friend. Aris stood with her, nodding in agreement.

“Not much to the plan, then.” Teresa yawned, as if life were completely normal.  
“Not much at all. Fight the Grievers, punch in the code, escape through the door. Then we deal with the Creators—whatever it takes.”  
“Six code words, who knows how many Grievers.” Teresa broke the stick in half.

“Grievers can’t be invincible. Enough of us jump on one, stabbing.” Aris gestured with his knife, Rachel leapt back.

“You almost got me with that, I’m not risking death till we’re past those Doors.” She scolded halfheartedly.

There was to be one last meal before they all went into the Maze, Thomas found Chuck and Flo and dragged them to sit with him and Teresa. Rachel and Aris were already halfway through their plates.

“So … Thomas,” Chuck said through a huge bite of mashed potatoes. “Who am I nicknamed after?”  
  
Thomas couldn’t help shaking his head—here they were, about to embark on probably the most dangerous task of their lives, and Chuck was curious where he’d gotten his nickname. “I don’t know, Darwin, maybe? The dude who figured out evolution.”

“And me?” Flo had been quiet as usual, Chuck did almost all of the talking for the pair.

“Florence Nightingale, nurse from the Crimean War.” Rachel suggested, drinking her whole glass of water in one gulp. How could they remember a generalized view of history but not their own parents?

“Remember what I promised.” Thomas repeated to the younger pair, he really hoped he could keep it. Seventy Gladers were going to make the run, assuming no one chickened out at the last minute, even if dozens of Grievers attacked and his person-a-day theory was wrong.

Not person-a-day, pair-a-day, Thomas suddenly remembered, that could mean that in sacrificing himself he may well sacrifice Rachel. That he just couldn’t do, he started to hope that maybe he was wrong, the Creators would reprogram the monsters.

 _Just don’t take my friends_. Thomas begged any higher power there was, from the Creators to Zeus. Rachel, Teresa, Aris, Chuck, Flo, he looked between all of them, thought of all the other Gladers who didn’t deserve death.  _You can take me, but not them, not yet._   


	28. Chapter 28

Too soon Harriet, Alby, Newt and Sonya began to gather the Gladers, corralling them all into a loose half-circle in front of the West Door. Thomas and his friends stood near the front, where they could hear and see almost everything.

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll kill ya before the Grievers get a chance.” Minho told Thomas, pushing through the crowd with Miyoko on his heels.

“Thanks,” Thomas said. But he couldn’t shake the twisting feeling in his gut. What if somehow he was wrong? What if the memories he’d had were false ones? Planted somehow? The thought terrified him, and he pushed it aside. There was no going back.  
  
He looked at Teresa, who shifted from foot to foot, wringing her hands. “You okay?” he asked.  
“I’m fine,” she answered with a small smile, clearly not fine at all. “Just anxious to get it over with.”  
“Amen, sister,” Minho said. He looked the calmest to Thomas, the most confident, the least scared. Thomas envied him.

“There’re seventy two of us.” Newt announced from the front. Thomas glanced around the circle, most Gladers had stood with their partner, some holding hands or with their arms wrapped around each other. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Harriet scribble something on a notepad, shove that and a pencil into her pocket. Why was she doing that?

“Make sure you’ve got your weapons. Other than that, isn’t a whole lot to buggin’ say—you’ve all been told the plan. We’re gonna fight our way through to the Griever Hole, and Tommy here’s gonna punch in his little magic code and then we’re gonna get payback on the Creators. Simple as that.” Newt continued, glancing at Alby who was staring at the ground, fingering his bowstring.

“Shouldn’t someone give a pep talk or something?” Minho asked.  
“Go ahead,” Newt replied.  
Minho nodded and faced the crowd. “Be careful,” he said dryly. “Don’t die.”  
Thomas would have laughed if he could, but he was too scared for it to come out.  
  
“Great. We’re all bloody inspired,” Newt answered, then pointed over his shoulder, toward the Maze. “You all know the plan. After two years of being treated like mice, tonight we’re making a stand. Tonight we’re taking the fight back to the Creators, no matter what we have to go through to get there. Tonight the Grievers better be scared.”

“Should have waited until next week.” Sonya quipped, this made most of the girls laugh. Thomas wondered why, girls were weird.

The Gladers cheered, the sound shaking the air, Thomas wished the Creators were watching, knew they were coming for them.

Everyone ran for the Doors, still cheering, weapons raised, into the Maze.

They ran, the air was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, feet on stone, the clatters of beetle blades, more than Thomas had ever seen anywhere yet.

Nothing attacked them and no one spoke, it took an hour to reach the Cliff, stopping where if they peeked around the corner they could see where the Maze ended, the endless now-dark abyss that would be their salvation.

Miyoko peeked around the edge of the wall, her face was pale when she returned. Thomas had to strain to hear her words to Minho.

“Grievers, at least a dozen, more than I’ve ever seen, just sitting there.”

Minho opened his mouth to reply to her but was but off by the sounds of metal on stone, of Grievers moving.

The group Miyoko had spotted was coming towards them, stopping only a dozen feet away. Another was approaching from the other end of the long corridor, the Gladers were trapped, everyone backing into each other, a tight crowd.

 _What are they doing?_ Thomas called out to Teresa.  _What are they waiting for?_  
She didn’t answer, which worried him. He reached out and squeezed her hand. Aris and Rachel were next to them, touching from shoulder to toe. The Gladers around them stood silent, clutching their meager weapons.  
  
Thomas looked over at Newt. “Got any ideas?”  
“No,” he replied, his voice just the tiniest bit shaky. “I don’t understand what they’re bloody waitin’ for.”  
“We shouldn’t have come,” Alby said. He’d been so quiet, his voice sounded odd, especially with the hollow echo the Maze walls created.

Alby didn’t reply, he grabbed Harriet, wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug.

“What?” The girl started, obviously confused, but she held onto her friend.

“Get out of the way. Stay alive. Keep leading. Lead them out. Never give up.” Alby’s instructions filled Thomas with dread, they sounded like a farewell.

“And thanks for being my friend. Goodbye.” Alby kissed the top of Harriet’s head then let go of her, running towards the Grievers.

“ALBY! Get back here!” Newt yelled, but the leader didn’t respond. Harriet did nothing, tears silently making their way down her cheeks. Alby had decided to be their sacrifice, because he couldn’t bear going back to the world that had been so horrible in his memories.

Alby didn’t stop, now sprinting towards the creatures. Sonya and Minho had grabbed Newt, stopping him from following his friend.

Five or six Grievers all went for Alby at once, attacking him in a blur of metal and skin, the boy didn’t scream, his body disappearing before their eyes.

Everyone who had seen what had happened was frozen in shock, those who hadn’t clamoured to hear what the hold up was.

“We need to go now, maybe they’ve gone dormant.” Rachel began, Harriet nodded but Newt looked outraged.

“How can you be so heartless.” He whispered, Harriet turned on him.

“You know as well as the rest of us what he did. Now let’s not waste it.” She turned back to the Grievers and swallowed, still crying, they seemed to be feeding on Alby’s body.

Minho turned and faced the huddled group of Gladers. “Listen up! Number one priority is to protect Thomas and Teresa. Get them to the Cliff and the Hole so—”

The sounds of the Grievers revving to life cut him off. Thomas looked up in horror. The creatures on both sides of their group seemed to have noticed them again. Spikes were popping in and out of blubbery skin; their bodies shuddered and pulsed.

Then, in unison, the monsters moved forward, slowly, instrument-tipped appendages unfolding, pointed at Thomas and the Gladers, ready to kill. Tightening their trap formation like a noose, the Grievers steadily charged toward them.

Alby’s sacrifice had failed miserably.  


	29. Chapter 29

Thomas couldn't believe what they were supposed to get through. Newt shouted something and a path was made through the crowd of Gladers.

The enormity of the situation suddenly hit him, they had to get through the Grievers, punch in the code, and hopefully stop the monsters before too many Gladers died. Aris and Rachel had promised to act as physical bodyguards, and Thomas found himself both loving and hating them for it.

"Ready!" Minho yelled, pulling Thomas from his thoughts. "Now!" The boy ran forward, weapon raised, followed by other Gladers, boys and girls running at the monsters.

Thomas held Teresa's hand as he watched them pass, heard the sounds of metal against metal and Grievers whirring, a few screams of pain already.

Chuck ran past, Thomas reached out and grabbed his arm, he couldn't see Flo anywhere and there was little he could do about it, despite the pang in his chest.

"You're with us. Hold Teresa's other hand. Let's go." Thomas instructed, he hoped that enough Grievers were distracted by the mass of Gladers that they would not be a main target.

A narrow aisle was forming in the middle of the corridor, Thomas tried hard not to look at the Gladers faces, see who was ready to sacrifice themselves.

"Now!" Thomas shouted.

He sprinted ahead, pulling Teresa behind him, Teresa pulling Chuck behind her, running at full speed, spears and knives cocked for battle, forward into the bloody, scream-filled hallway of stone. Toward the Cliff.

War raged around them. Gladers fought, panic-induced adrenaline driving them on. The sounds echoing off the walls were a cacophony of terror—human screams, metal clashing against metal, motors roaring, the haunted shrieks of the Grievers, saws spinning, claws clasping, yells for help. All was a blur, bloody and gray and flashes of steel; Thomas tried not to look left or right, only ahead, through the narrow gap formed by the Gladers.

Thomas didn't dare to look back to see if Rachel and Aris were behind them, but straining his ears he thought he could hear their shoes slap the stone.

We're here, keep going. Rachel said in his mind, perhaps having somehow sensed his concern.

Something stabbed Thomas's leg, Teresa shrieking in surprised pain at the same moment, they kept running, it was all they could really do.

It was only about 150 metres to the Cliff, but they felt like an eternity. Thomas was so focused on running that he barely stopped in time to avoid an endless fall, arms pulling him back.

 _Don't fall now, or I will kill you in the afterlife._  Rachel warned, Thomas had long ago realised that these threats were almost a sign of affection from her.

The ivy ropes marked the Griever Hole clearly, they had to jump, Thomas hesitated for a moment.

 _No time to waste, it's a massacre back there._  Aris told him glancing over his shoulder, turning back with a look of terror.

"Okay, Teresa first." Thomas looked at her, her expression was one of grim determination.

To his surprise, she didn't hesitate. After squeezing Thomas's hand, then Chuck's shoulder, she leaped off the edge, immediately stiffening her legs, with her arms by her sides. Thomas held his breath until she slipped into the spot between the cut-off ivy ropes and disappeared. It looked as if she'd been erased from existence with one quick swipe.

"Whoa!" Chuck yelled, the slightest hint of his old self breaking through.  
"Whoa is right," Thomas said. "You're next."  
Before the boy could argue, Thomas grabbed him under his arms, squeezed Chuck's torso. "Push off with your legs and I'll give you a lift. Ready? One, two, three!" He grunted with effort, heaved him over toward the Hole.

Chuck screamed as he flew through the air, and he almost missed the target, but his feet went through; then his stomach and arms slammed against the sides of the invisible hole before he disappeared inside. The boy's bravery solidified something in Thomas's heart. He loved the kid. He loved him as if they had the same mom.

"Get going." Rachel pushed Thomas gently. "We're right behind you."

Thomas tightened the straps on his backpack, held his makeshift fighting spear tightly in his right fist. The sounds behind him were awful, horrible—he felt guilty for not helping. Just do your part, he told himself.

Steeling his nerves, he tapped his spear against the stone ground, then planted his left foot on the very edge of the Cliff and jumped, catapulting up and into the twilight air. He pulled the spear close to his torso, pointed his toes downward, stiffened his body.

Then he hit the Hole.

A line of icy cold shot across Thomas's skin as he entered the Griever Hole, starting from his toes and continuing up his whole body, as if he'd jumped through a flat plane of freezing water. The world went even darker around him as his feet thumped to a landing on a slippery surface, then shot out from under him; he fell backward into Teresa's arms. She and Chuck helped him stand. It was a miracle Thomas hadn't stabbed someone's eye out with his spear.

The Griever Hole would've been pitch-black if not for the beam of Teresa's flashlight cutting through the darkness. As Thomas got his bearings, he realized they were standing in a ten-foot-high stone cylinder. It was damp, and covered in shiny, grimy oil, and it stretched out in front of them for dozens of yards before it faded into darkness. Thomas peered up at the Hole through which they'd come—it looked like a square window into a deep, starless space.

They quickly cleared away from directly underneath the Hole, it was a second or two before Rachel fell through, appearing like a supernatural apparition. Thomas moved to catch her but she hardly needed it, was back on her feet much quicker than he had been.

A few more seconds and Aris fell through the ceiling of the strange chamber, nowhere near as put together as Rachel had been. Thomas felt relieved for a moment. They were all safe, but it wasn't yet over.

"The computer's over there." Teresa pointed her flashlight at a square of grimy glass set above a keyboard, their escape on a silver platter, not that it had been easy.

Rachel and Aris had already positioned themselves to guard the Hole, fight off any Grievers that fell through.

Teresa stepped up to the keyboard and started typing, her fingers flew across it, likely muscle memory. Thomas made to stand next to her, glancing over her at the screen. Chuck was nearby, clutching his spear tightly.

A loud bang from above and behind them cut her off, made Thomas jump. He spun around to see a Griever plop through the Griever Hole. The thing had retracted its spikes and arms to enter—when it landed with a squishy thump, a dozen sharp and nasty objects popped back out, looking deadlier than ever.

Aris and Rachel had sprang away as the creature entered, but were now converging upon it, stabbing their weapons into its moist flesh, holding it off.

Thomas moved to help them but was stopped by Rachel's telepathic voice.  _You stay there, we've got this._

As she spoke she stabbed her spear hard into its moist flesh, at the same time a clawed arm reached for the shaft, to snap it, but the force of Rachel's attack caused the whole arm to be ripped from its socket, crashing to the floor.

 _See_. Thomas could imagine her smile.

The Griever let out a long, piercing shriek, an awful sound.

 _Looks like we can beat these things._  Aris had moved to stand with Rachel, the two of them having broken another appendage from the monster's body.

 _It won't let me enter the last word!_  Teresa regained Thomas's attention, he turned to see her frantically typing 'push' over and over, but it would not appear on the screen as the other five words had done.

 _It's dead._  Rachel announced grimly, Thomas didn't dare to look what they meant, he just prayed another didn't get through.

 _Two more, what's keeping you?_  Aris demanded, Thomas heard the whirrs of Grievers, far too close for comfort.

"Maybe you should just push that button," Chuck said.

Thomas was so surprised by the random statement that he turned away from the Grievers, looked at the boy. Chuck was pointing at a spot near the floor, right underneath the screen and keyboard.

Three black letters were printed above it:  **Kill the Maze**. Somehow Thomas was reminded of the words sprayed above Teresa and Aris's heads in the Box, a lifetime ago.

Teresa didn't hesitate, pushing the button with unnecessary strength, the sounds of the Grievers stopped instantly. Another, impossible sound: a door opening.

Thomas turned and saw that the attacking Grievers had shut down completely, lights off, appendages withdrawn, the distant sounds of battle absent.

Aris and Rachel were stood, panting, still clutching their weapons, the Griever they had killed lay in a pool of yellow liquid, it looked almost like fuel.

They had done it, killed the maze.

Chuck had scooted away from the Grievers, bumping into Teresa—she held him tightly, squeezing him in a fierce hug.

"You did it, Chuck," Teresa said. "We were so worried about the stupid code words, we didn't think to look around for something to push—the last word, the last piece of the puzzle."

Thomas laughed again, in disbelief that such a thing could be possible so soon after what they'd gone through. "She's right, Chuck—you saved us, man! I knew we needed you!" Thomas scrambled to his feet and joined the other two in a group hug, almost delirious. "Chuck's a shucking hero!"

Thomas turned, embraced Rachel, then Aris, the two of them hugged each other. Thomas felt nothing in that moment but pure joy.

"What about the others?" Teresa said with a nod toward the Griever Hole. Thomas felt his elation wither, and he stepped back and turned toward the Hole.

As if in answer to her question, someone fell through the black square—it was Minho, looking as if he'd been scratched or stabbed on ninety percent of his body.  
"Minho!" Thomas shouted, filled with relief. "Are you okay? What about everybody else?"

Minho stumbled toward the curved wall of the tunnel, then leaned there, gulping big breaths. "We lost a ton of people…. It's a mess of blood up there … then they all just shut down." He paused, taking in a really deep breath and letting it go in a rush of air. "You did it. I can't believe it actually worked."

More Gladers started to fall through the Hole, those at the bottom catching them, shouts of victory filled the air, friends hugging each other.

Thomas looked around, there were about twenty boys left, and thirty girls. Some he recognised; Newt, Sonya, Harriet, but others were still unknown to him.

They were all covered in Griever sludge and human blood, minor wounds and clothes torn.

Only half of the Gladers that had ran at the Grievers had come through the Hole, the rest had to be dead.

"You know what?" Minho said, standing up a little taller. "Half might've died, but half of us shucking lived. And nobody got stung—just like Thomas thought. We've gotta get out of here."

"That we do." Thomas had no idea how Harriet was still standing, deep cuts covered her body, some of the worst he had seen.

Rachel pointed down the long tunnel and the group slowly started to make their way down, no one knew what came next, but in that moment Thomas was hopeful.


	30. Chapter 30

After a minute or so of walking, Thomas heard a shriek from ahead, followed by another, then another. Their cries faded, as if they were falling….  
Murmurs made their way down the line, and finally Teresa turned to Thomas. “Looks like it ends in a slide up there, shooting downward.”

“Seriously?” Rachel sighed. “These Creators need their heads looking at, maybe with bullets.”

Thomas had never agreed with anything more, maybe he could pull a few of the triggers.

The number of Gladers in the chamber slowly thinned until only the four of them were left.

“Here goes nothing.” Rachel took a deep breath before easing herself into the chute and letting go, disappearing instantly.

“Neither of you kick me in the head.” Aris smirked before following her.

Teresa slipped down the slide with an almost cheerful shriek, and Thomas followed her before he could talk himself out of it—anything was better than the Maze.

His body shot down a steep decline, slick with an oily goo that smelled awful—like burnt plastic and overused machinery. He twisted his body until he got his feet in front of him, then tried to hold his hands out to slow himself down. It was useless—the greasy stuff covered every inch of the stone; he couldn’t grip anything.  
  
The screams of the other Gladers echoed off the tunnel walls as they slid down the oily chute. Panic gripped Thomas’s heart. He couldn’t fight off the image that they’d been swallowed by some gigantic beast and were sliding down its long esophagus, about to land in its stomach at any second. And as if his thoughts had materialized, the smells changed—to something more like mildew and rot. He started gagging; it took all his effort not to throw up on himself.  
  
The tunnel began to twist, turning in a rough spiral, just enough to slow them down, and Thomas’s feet smacked right into Teresa, hitting her in the head; he recoiled and a feeling of complete misery sank over him. They were still falling. Time seemed to stretch out, endless.  
  
Around and around they went down the tube. Nausea burned in his stomach—the squishing of the goo against his body, the smell, the circling motion. He was just about to turn his head to the side to throw up when Teresa let out a sharp cry—this time there was no echo. A second later, Thomas flew out of the tunnel and landed on her.

Bodies scrambled everywhere, people on top of people, groaning and squirming in confusion as they tried to push away from each other. Thomas wiggled his arms and legs to scoot away from Teresa, then crawled a few more feet to throw up, emptying his stomach.  
  
“That was disgusting.” Rachel was doing her best to wipe the worst of the slimy filth from her face, but wasn’t getting very far.

The chamber was huge, almost as big as the Glade. Pods lined the walls, containing sleeping - or deactivated Grievers - Thomas wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Directly in front of them, a row of twenty or so darkly tinged windows stretched across the compound horizontally, one after the other. Behind each one, a person—some men, some women, all of them pale and thin—sat observing the Gladers, staring through the glass with squinted eyes. Thomas shuddered, terrified—they all looked like ghosts. Angry, starving, sinister apparitions of people who’d never been happy when alive, much less dead.  
  
But Thomas knew they were not, of course, ghosts. They were the people who’d sent them all to the Glade. The people who’d taken their lives away from them.  
  
The Creators.

Some Gladers shouted things at them, crude, violent threats. Thomas didn’t join in, the still fresh memories from the Changing had showed him this place, and flashes of a time when he had sat at one of those desks.

Without warning a beeping began to sound, powerful, coming from everywhere but with no discernible source.

A door swung open and the beeping stopped as suddenly as it started.

Thomas waited without breathing, braced himself for something horrible to come flying through the door.  
Instead, three people walked into the room.  
  
One was a woman. An actual grown-up. She seemed very ordinary, wearing black pants and a button-down white shirt with a logo on the breast—wicked spelled in blue capital letters. Her brown hair was cut at the shoulder, and she had a thin face with dark eyes. As she walked toward the group, she neither smiled nor frowned—it was almost as if she didn’t notice or care they were standing there.  
  
I know her, Thomas thought. But it was a cloudy kind of recollection—he couldn’t remember her name or what she had to do with the Maze, but she seemed familiar. And not just her looks, but the way she walked, her mannerisms—stiff, without a hint of joy. She stopped several feet in front of the Gladers and slowly looked left to right, taking them all in.  
  
The others were teenagers, a boy and girl, faces concealed with large hoods. They walked oddly, like stringless puppets, moving in a creepy synchronisation.  
“Welcome back,” the woman finally said. “Over two years, and so few dead. Amazing.”

“Over half of us just died back there. You call that few.” Harriet’s voice was filled with rage, Thomas knew she was thinking of Alby.

Her eyes scanned the crowd again before falling on Harriet. “Everything has gone according to plan, Miss Harriet. Although we expected a few more of you to give up along the way.”

Several Gladers looked personally insulted by that comment.

The woman gestured to her companions, who, in unison, reached up and removed their hoods to reveal two familiar faces.

Beth and Gally, WICKED had somehow found them and brought them here.

“What’re they doing here!” Minho shouted.  
“You’re safe now,” the woman responded as if she hadn’t heard him. “Please, be at ease.”  
  
“At ease?” Minho barked. “Who are you, telling us to be at ease? We wanna see the police, the mayor, the president—somebody!” Thomas worried what Minho might do—then again, Thomas kind of wanted him to go punch her in the face.

"There is however, one final variable." The woman said. Thomas did not like the sound of that, at all.

Thomas focused on Gally. The boy’s whole body trembled, his face pasty white, making his wet, red eyes stand out like bloody splotches on paper. His lips pressed together; the skin around them twitched, as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t. Beth was completely still, as she had been in the Homestead, when Gally had tried to protect her from the Griever.

That was unfortunate, she had been the more rational one.  
  
“Gally?” Thomas asked, trying to suppress the complete hatred he had for him.  
  
Words burst from Gally’s mouth. “They … can control me … I don’t—” His eyes bulged, a hand went to his throat as if he were choking. “I … have … to …” Each word was a croaking cough. Then he stilled, his face calming, his body relaxing.

It was just like Alby, Thomas realised, the Creators could somehow control them. He had never thought anything more terrifying.

Both of them reached back, pulled identical long, cruel looking knives from their pockets.

Time slowed to a trickle, Thomas could not see anything except Gally directly in front of him, the knife in the boy’s hand.

With unexpected speed, Gally reared back and threw the knife at Thomas. As he did so, Thomas heard a shout to his right, sensed movement. Toward him. Beth had thrown her weapon too, but Thomas was unable to turn his head to see where it would land.  
  
The blade windmilled, its every turn visible to Thomas, as if the world had turned to slow motion. As if it did so for the sole purpose of allowing him to feel the terror of seeing such a thing. On the knife came, flipping over and over, straight at him. A strangled cry was forming in his throat; he urged himself to move but he couldn’t.

Then, inexplicably, Chuck was there, diving in front of him. Thomas felt as if his feet had been frozen in blocks of ice; he could only stare at the scene of horror unfolding before him, completely helpless.

With a sickening, wet thunk, the dagger slammed into Chuck's chest, burying itself to the hilt. The boy screamed, fell to the floor, his body already convulsing. Blood poured from the wound, dark crimson. His legs slapped against the floor, feet kicking aimlessly with onrushing death. Red spit oozed from between his lips. Thomas felt as if the world were collapsing around him, crushing his heart.

Thomas fell to the ground, pulled Chuck's shaking body into his arms.

"Chuck!" he screamed; his voice felt like acid ripping through his throat. "Chuck!"

The boy shook uncontrollably, blood everywhere, wetting Thomas's hands. Chuck's eyes had rolled up in their sockets, dull white orbs. Blood trickled out of his nose and mouth.

"Chuck …," Thomas said, this time a whisper. There had to be something they could do. They could save him. They—

The boy stopped convulsing, stilled. His eyes slid back into normal position, focused on Thomas, clinging to life. "Thom … mas." It was one word, barely there.

"Hang on, Chuck," Thomas said. "Don't die—fight it. Someone get help!"

Nobody moved, and deep inside, Thomas knew why. Nothing could help now. It was over. Black spots swam before Thomas's eyes; the room tilted and swayed. No, he thought. Not Chuck. Not Chuck. Anyone but Chuck.

"Thomas," Chuck whispered. "Find … my mom." A racking cough burst from his lungs, throwing a spray of blood. "Tell her …"

He didn't finish. His eyes closed, his body went limp. One last breath wheezed from his mouth.

Thomas stared at him, stared at his friend's lifeless body.

Something happened within Thomas. It started deep down in his chest, a seed of rage. Of revenge. Of hate. Something dark and terrible. And then it exploded, bursting through his lungs, through his neck, through his arms and legs. Through his mind.  
  
He let go of Chuck, stood up, trembling, turned to face their new visitors.  
And then Thomas snapped. He completely and utterly snapped.  
  
 _Gally_.

Thinking the boy's name seemed to make something snap inside Thomas.

He rushed forward, threw himself on Gally, grasping with his fingers like claws. Thomas found the boy's throat, squeezed, fell to the ground on top of him. He straddled the boy's torso, gripped him with his legs so he couldn't escape. Thomas started punching. Dimly he heard Beth cry out, try to pull him away, his elbow hit her in the face and she crumpled. Thomas didn’t care, hardly noticed.

He held Gally down with his left hand, pushing down on the boy's neck, as his right fist rained punches upon Gally's face, one after another. Down and down and down, slamming his balled knuckles into the boy's cheek and nose. There was crunching, there was blood, there were horrible screams. Thomas didn't know which were louder—Gally's or his own. He beat him—beat him as he released every ounce of rage he'd ever owned.

And then he was being pulled away by Minho and Newt, his arms still flailing even when they only hit air. They dragged him across the floor; he fought them, squirmed, yelled to be left alone. His eyes remained on Gally, lying there, still; Thomas could feel the hatred pouring out, as if a visible line of flame connected them.

Then he was screaming, he wasn't sure what he was saying or why. At first, he hadn't even been sure it was him screaming.

Eventually he stopped. Pushing the feeling of grief deep down inside him. He ran back to Chuck, held his body tightly.

“No!” Thomas shouted, sadness consuming him. “No!”  
Teresa was there, put her hand on his shoulder. He shook it away.  
  
“I promised him!” he screamed, realizing even as he did so that his voice was laced with something wrong. Almost insanity. “I promised I’d save him, take him home! I promised him!”  
Teresa didn’t respond, only nodded, her eyes cast to the ground.  
Thomas hugged Chuck to his chest, squeezed him as tightly as possible, as if that could somehow bring him back.

He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him—a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.  
  
But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman—that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.  
  
His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.  
Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Rachel and Aris. Whatever darkness awaited them, they’d be together, and that was all that mattered right then.  
  
He let go of Chuck, slumped backward, trying not to look at the boy’s shirt, black with blood. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, rubbed his eyes, thinking he should be embarrassed but not feeling that way. Finally, he looked up. Looked up at Teresa and her enormous blue eyes, heavy with sadness—just as much for him as for Chuck, he was sure of it.  
  
She reached down, grabbed his hand, helped him stand. Once he was up, she didn’t let go, and neither did he. He squeezed, tried to say what he felt by doing so. No one else said a word, most of them staring at Chuck’s body without expression, as if they’d moved far beyond feeling. No one looked at Gally, breathing but still. Beth was recovering, disoriented, face covered in tears, Thomas almost pitied her.

He looked for Rachel, for Aris. Rachel had been next to him, Thomas realised with a pang of terror, directly in front of Beth, must have been her target.

And Flo had disappeared in the battle, they hadn’t seen her to bring her down the whole with them. There had been no one to be her human shield against death.

Thomas’s eyes found her almost involuntarily and his heart leapt, she was alive, unharmed, no knife in her chest.

Aris was holding her, so tightly it must have been painful for them both, she was sobbing shaking, her face buried in his shoulder. Aris was staring at the unknown woman with such hatred Thomas didn’t know how she could stand it, daring her or anyone else to try and harm Rachel. Such anger on his friend’s face was foreign, unnatural.

The woman from WICKED broke the silence.  
“All things happen for a purpose,” she said, any sign of malice now gone from her voice. “You must understand this. Although the girl was supposed to die too.”

Thomas wouldn’t be surprised if she spontaneously burst into flames from the force of the hate-filled glares she was thrown from every angle.

 _What now?_  Teresa asked, gripping his arm with her free hand.

 _I don’t know,_  Thomas replied. _I can’t—_  
  
His sentence was cut short by a sudden series of shouts and commotion outside the entrance through which the woman had come. She visibly panicked, the blood draining from her face as she turned toward the door. Thomas followed her gaze.  
  
Several men and women dressed in grimy jeans and soaking-wet coats burst through the entrance with guns raised, yelling and screaming words over each other. It was impossible to understand what they were saying.

Two newcomers tackled her, shooting her in the head.

Guns swept left and right at the windows, the Creators falling, screams and blood.

A man addressed the Gladers. “We don’t have time to explain. Just follow me and run like your life depends on it. Because it does.”

The Gladers ran, Thomas still holding tight to Teresa’s hand. There was no emotion, but there should have been: pain at Chuck’s death, relief at Rachel’s survival, joy that so many of his friends were still with him. But there was nothing, a void of emptiness.

On they ran, some of the men and women leading from ahead, some yelling encouragement from behind.  
  
They reached another set of glass doors and went through them into a massive downpour of rain, falling from a black sky. Nothing was visible but dull sparkles flashing off the pounding sheets of water.  
  
The leader didn’t stop moving until they reached a huge bus, its sides dented and scarred, most of the windows webbed with cracks. Rain sluiced down it all, making Thomas imagine a huge beast cresting out of the ocean.  
  
“Get on!” the man screamed. “Hurry!”  
They did, forming into a tight pack behind the door as they entered, one by one. It seemed to take forever, Gladers pushing and scrambling their way up the three stairs and into the seats.

Thomas was at the back, Teresa right in front of him. Thomas looked up into the sky, felt the water beat against his face—it was warm, almost hot, had a weird thickness to it. Oddly, it helped break him out of his funk, snap him to attention. Maybe it was just the ferocity of the deluge. He focused on the bus, on Teresa, on escape.  
  
They were almost to the door when a hand suddenly slammed against his shoulder, gripping his shirt. He cried out as someone jerked him backward, ripping his hand out of Teresa’s—he saw her spin around just in time to watch as he slammed into the ground, throwing up a spray of water. A bolt of pain shot down his spine as a woman’s head appeared two inches above him, upside down, blocking out Teresa.  
  
Greasy hair hung down, touching Thomas, framing a face hidden in shadow. A horrible smell filled his nostrils, like eggs and milk gone rotten. The woman pulled back enough for someone’s flashlight to reveal her features—pale, wrinkly skin covered in horrible sores, oozing with pus. Sheer terror filled Thomas, froze him.  
  
“Gonna save us all!” the hideous woman said, spit flying out of her mouth, spraying Thomas. “Gonna save us from the Flare!” She laughed, not much more than a hacking cough.  
  
The woman yelped when one of the rescuers grabbed her with both hands and yanked her off of Thomas, who recovered his wits and scrambled to his feet. He backed into Teresa, staring as the man dragged the woman away, her legs kicking out weakly, her eyes on Thomas. She pointed at him, called out, “Don’t believe a word they tell ya! Gonna save us from the Flare, ya are!”  
  
When the man was several yards from the bus, he tossed the woman to the ground. “Stay put or I’ll shoot you dead!” he yelled at her; then he turned to Thomas. “Get on the bus!”  
  
Thomas, so terrified by the ordeal that his body shook, turned and followed Teresa up the stairs and into the aisle of the bus. Wide eyes watched him as they walked all the way to the back seat and plopped down; they huddled together. Black water washed down the windows outside. The rain drummed on the roof, heavy; thunder shook the skies above them.

Rachel and Aris were on the other side of the aisle, Rachel seemed to have come back to herself. But her expression betrayed the shadow of terror at the horrible death she had almost experienced. Thomas wondered momentarily how she had avoided it, but decided that it only mattered that she was alive.

The leader of the rescuers climbed onto the bus and took a seat at the wheel, cranked up the engine. The bus started rolling forward.  
  
Just as it did, Thomas saw a flash of movement outside the window. The sore-riddled woman had gotten to her feet, was sprinting toward the front of the bus, waving her arms wildly, screaming something drowned out by the sounds of the storm. Her eyes were lit with lunacy or terror—Thomas couldn’t tell which.  
  
He leaned toward the glass of the window as she disappeared from his view up ahead.  
“Wait!” Thomas shrieked, but no one heard him. Or if they did, they didn’t care.  
  
The driver gunned the engine—the bus lurched as it slammed into the woman’s body. A thump almost jolted Thomas out of his seat as the front wheels ran over her, quickly followed by a second thump—the back wheels. Thomas looked at Teresa, saw the sickened look on her face that surely mirrored his own.  
  
Without a word, the driver kept his foot on the gas and the bus plowed forward, driving off into the rain-swept night.

* * *

**A/N: Please tell me what you think of this chapter, I think there’ll be one more for this story then onto the Scorch Trials. I’m going to write this chapter from Rachel’s POV soon, maybe later today.**


	31. Chapter 31

The driver drove at reckless speeds, through towns and cities, the heavy rain obscuring most of the view. Lights and buildings were warped and watery, like something out of a drug-induced hallucination. At one point people outside rushed the bus, their clothes ratty, hair matted to their heads, strange sores like those Thomas had seen on the woman covering their terrified faces. They pounded on the sides of the vehicle as if they wanted to get on, wanted to escape whatever horrible lives they were living.

The bus never slowed. Teresa remained silent next to Thomas. No one spoke, some Gladers drifting off to sleep. Aris and Rachel both drifted off.  
He finally got up enough nerve to speak to the woman sitting across the aisle.  
"What's going on?" he asked, not sure how else to pose it.

"That's a very long story."  
"Please," Teresa said. "Please tell us something."  
The woman looked back and forth between Thomas and Teresa, then let out a sigh. "It'll take a while before you get your memories back, if ever—we're not scientists, we have no idea what they did to you, or how they did it."

Thomas's heart dropped at the thought of maybe having lost his memory forever, but he pressed on. "Who are they?" he asked.  
"It started with the sun flares," the woman said, her gaze growing distant.  
"What—" Teresa began, but Thomas shushed her.  
 _Just let her talk,_  he said to her mind.  _She looks like she will._  
 _Okay._

The woman almost seemed in a trance as she spoke, never taking her eyes off an indistinct spot in the distance. "The sun flares couldn't have been predicted. Sun flares are normal, but these were unprecedented, massive, spiking higher and higher—and once they were noticed, it was only minutes before their heat slammed into Earth. First our satellites were burned out, and thousands died instantly, millions within days, countless miles became wastelands. Then came the sickness."

She paused, took a breath. "As the ecosystem fell apart, it became impossible to control the sickness—even to keep it in South America. The jungles were gone, but the insects weren't. People call it the Flare now. It's a horrible, horrible thing. Only the richest can be treated, no one can be cured. Unless the rumors from the Andes are true."

Thomas almost broke his own advice—questions filled his mind. Horror grew in his heart. He sat and listened as the woman continued.

"As for you, all of you—you're just a few of millions orphaned. They tested thousands, chose you for the big one. The ultimate test. Everything you lived through was calculated and thought through. Catalysts to study your reactions, your brain waves, your thoughts. All in an attempt to find those capable of helping us find a way to beat the Flare."

She paused again, pulled a string of hair behind her ear. "Most of the physical effects are caused by something else. First the delusions start, then animal instincts begin to overpower the human ones. Finally it consumes them, destroys their humanity. It's all in the brain. The Flare lives in their brains. It is an awful thing. Better to die than catch it."  
"We won't let them do this to children. We've sworn our lives to fighting WICKED. We can't lose our humanity, no matter the end result."

She folded her hands in her lap, looked down at them. "You'll learn more in time. We live far in the north. We're separated from the Andes by thousands of miles. They call it the Scorch—it lies between here and there. It's centered mainly around what they used to call the equator—it's just heat and dust now, filled with savages consumed by the Flare beyond help. We're trying to cross that land—to find the cure. But until then, we'll fight WICKED and stop the experiments and tests." She looked carefully at Thomas, then Teresa. "It's our hope that you'll join us."

Teresa slept soon after that, her head resting on Thomas's shoulder, none of the Gladers spoke, everything was silent.  
Two hours later, the bus stopped.

They had pulled into a muddy parking lot that surrounded a nondescript building with several rows of windows. The rescuers shuffled the twenty boys and thirty girls off the bus and inside to a central room with doors leading to two large dormitories.

The first thing they were given was showers, it felt impossibly good to be free of the slimy filth, the smell of dirt and sweat. Their injuries were cleaned and bandaged, new clothes provided.

"This has to be too good to be true." Rachel said, reaching for a slice of the pizza they had been served for dinner, her bright smile chased away some of the darkness in Thomas's heart. But somehow he knew it would never all leave him.  
For the first time since the Box, they were safe.

Soon after eating, no one argued when they were told it was time for bed.

The girls slept in one dorm, boys in another. They were told it was 'inappropriate' for differing genders to share bunk beds, Thomas wondered what these people would have thought about him, Rachel, Teresa and Aris, all curling up in corners together.

Three seconds after they were gone, Thomas missed Rachel and Teresa desperately, no real goodbyes had been allowed. Some, such as Newt and Sonya, had protested being separated until it was promised that they could see each other first thing in the morning.

Thomas shared a bunk with Aris, who had jumped above before he got the chance. He was too tired to care.

The few murmurs of conversation seemed to come from another world, but Thomas's three friends forced himself into a telepathic conversation before he could fall asleep.

 _I can't believe all of this_. Teresa began,  _how are you all?_

 _All good._  Aris replied.

 _Great, I love having clean hair._  Thomas really did almost laugh at Rachel's priorities.

_Tom, you're being quiet, and I know you're not asleep._

Thomas hated how observant Teresa was.

 _Chuck, it just, feels like I lost a brother._  The feeling of loss was still all-consuming, he was indescribably thankful that he hadn't also lost Rachel, the four of them leant on each other, and a table couldn't stand with three legs.

 _Don't, we'd all have died if we stayed there._  Teresa replied, Thomas could physically feel Rachel and Aris agreeing.

 _Goodnight, let's be happy for now, see what tomorrow brings._  Rachel somehow sent an image of her smile into Thomas's head.

 _Night._  The other three chorused as the lights went out.

* * *

WICKED Memorandum, Date 232.1.27, Time 22:45

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS

By any reckoning, I think we'd all agree that the Trials were a success. Fifty survivors, all well qualified for our planned endeavor. The responses to the Variables were satisfactory and encouraging. The boy's murder and the "rescue" proved to be a valuable finale. We needed to shock their systems, see their responses. Honestly, I'm amazed that in the end, despite everything, we were able to collect such a large population of kids that just never gave up.

It is unfortunate that the sacrifice variable conducted on B2 was unsuccessful, but this has allowed us to collect different, but invaluable, patterns from B1 and B2. I suggest that the girl is permitted to survive, as an elite candidate her death would not serve such a useful purpose at any later point in the trials that we have yet foreseen.

Oddly enough, seeing them this way, thinking all is well, has been the hardest thing for me to observe. But there's no time for regret. For the good of our people, we will move forward.

I know I have my own feelings as to who should be chosen as the leaders, but I'll refrain from saying at this time so as not to influence any decisions. But to me, it's an obvious choice.

We are all well aware of what's at stake. I, for one, am encouraged. Remember what A1 wrote on her arm before losing her memory? The one thing she chose to clasp on to? WICKED is good.

The subjects will eventually recall and understand the purpose of the hard things we have done and plan to do to them. The mission of WICKED is to serve and preserve humanity, no matter the cost. We are, indeed, "good."

Please respond with your own reactions. The subjects will be allowed one full night's sleep before Stage 2 implementation. At this time, let's allow ourselves to feel hopeful.

The 'B' subjects were most extraordinary, with a marked higher rate of survival than their 'A' counterparts. As you know this has been the case throughout the trials so far, and begs to be explored further. This we must discuss in the morning.

Until tomorrow, then.

* * *

**A/N: Guess who just completed a story for the first time ever. I might have the first chapter of The Scorch Trials up as early as tomorrow, but now I really have to go to bed.**


End file.
